Hear My Voice
by Badger Chamomile
Summary: While doing a production of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera for class, the Marauders discover alarming parallels between themselves and the characters they play. The script begins to affect their relationships with one another, and changes their understanding of themselves. Sirius/Remus, with a little James/Lily on the side.
1. Chapter 1: Cast List

**Word Count: **1,693  
**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius  
**Era:** MWPP  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based.  
**Summary:** While doing a production of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera for class, the Marauders discover alarming parallels between themselves and the characters they play. The script begins to affect their relationships with one another, and changes their understanding of themselves. Sirius/Remus, with a little James/Lily on the side.

**Important Notes:** Not familiar with the plot of Bare? I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school _long _before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now. Many thanks to Amanda, who is the most fabulous human being and reads everything for me.

* * *

Remus entered the Common Room that evening to find Sirius already sprawled across the couch, taking up as much unneeded space as possible in the universe. His shoes had been kicked off and sat at odd angles several feet away, nudging up against a circle of 2nd Years having a game of Exploding Snap on the floor. His white uniform shirt was rolled up to his elbows, the tie undone and the vest discarded in a heap beside the couch. Had Remus not known better, he would have assumed the day's lessons had been rough on Sirius, that he had worked hard from dawn till dusk, that he was weary from the day. Yet, having spent several lessons prodding Sirius back from sleep, and every other class trying to keep him from writing crude things on the side of Remus's notes, he knew this appearance was far from the truth.

"Where'd you slip off to?" Sirius the Would-Be Fatigued Hero asked, as Remus settled himself into an armchair, right next to Sirius's stinking feet.

James, who was sitting in the slightly mismatched armchair opposite Remus, Peter cross-legged in front of him, threw his tie across at Remus. He lurched forward to catch it, but the light object unraveled and fell to the floor a good six inches from the tips of Remus's fingers.

"You sure you don't want to play Seeker for Gryffindor? You'd be brilliant, Moony," James said with a laugh, flexing his arms behind his head and scanning the room— something of a nervous tic that James developed 3rd year when he discovered girls and discovered Lily. "Blimey, it feels good to have that wretched thing off my neck."

Remus, having no interest in completely disrobing to celebrate the end of lessons for the day, turned his attention to Sirius, "Professor Andersen said she'd post the cast list this afternoon, remember? I went to check."

"Oh, right, for the project thing?" Sirius asked, craning his next downwards to look at Remus. "What's a cast list, again?"

Remus stared at Sirius, incredulous. Though really, he ought not be so surprised. It wasn't unusual for Sirius to completely ignore all instruction and explanation given in class, especially in Muggle Studies. A simple O, that's why Sirius had opted for it. Well, Professor Andersen was new this year, and aware of the course's reputation, and had made it her goal to change matters— though apparently Sirius missed that speech on the first day of class, also.

He struggled valiantly to keep the exasperation from his voice as he explained the term 'cast list,' and reminded Sirius of their project— to put on a Muggle musical and experience an educational diversity often found in Muggle schools, but that Professor Andersen felt was lacking at Hogwarts. It was a wonder Remus's patience wasn't completely squandered by this point in his life, between his constant duties as 'voice of reason' and the various nonsense that went on with James and Sirius.

"Are you going to tell us what the bleedin' thing said, Moony, or are you just going to keep us in the dark for the rest of our lives?" Peter finally demanded, while James nodded and urged Remus to just 'come out with it already.'

"Considering our first rehearsal is tomorrow during class, you would have found out then, at least, but since you asked _so politely_, I will tell you,"

Ignoring the rather snarky comment James had to offer, Remus quickly rattled off that Sirius was playing Jason, James was playing Matt, Peter was playing Lucas, and that he was playing Peter, which made him go slightly pink around the ears, both because this announcement felt too self-congratulatory and because the role felt far too Remus-like, though only he knew to what extent.

"Oh!" Sirius sat bolt upright, "I know what this is!"

"Well, that is likely, considering we've had the script for about a wee—"

"It's the _Bible_, isn't it? Those are all characters in that muggle book, the one about religion, that we talked about earlier in the term, right?" Sirius was staring intently at Remus, and he couldn't help but picture a dog expectantly awaiting a treat for having gone outside to use the bathroom, instead of pissing all over the carpet. Sirius seemed to have so much pride in his revelation that Remus almost felt guilty bursting his bubble. Almost.

"There's no Lucas in the Bible. There's a Luke, but no Lucas. We're doing Bare, remember? You were supposed to read it for homework over the weekend, though it looks like dying several unsuspecting Ravenclaws a vibrant shade of chartreuse won out over that assignment," Remus admonished, giving Sirius and James his best possible reprimanding face. It was not much— especially given that his friends dwelled in a land where they did no wrong and felt no sting of regret— but he still felt that look was part of his duties. Someone had to insist on sense, even if it was ignored.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! _I_, at the very least, read the script and had some sense of what was actually going on while I auditioned," James retorted, indignant.

"The audition was simple," Sirius shrugged, nestling back down into the couch, his legs still taking up the entire thing so that nobody else could sit there, lest some brave soul decided to perch on his kneecaps. "I waltzed in, read some words, flirted with Evans a bit— sorry Prongs, but she was in my audition with me— and then I chatted up Amos Diggory a bit, which was weird, and it was all something of a blur. I think I tried to tap dance? I guess she liked my guts."

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course, Sirius was a perfect Jason. He could charm his way through anything, or anyone, and still brood like there was no tomorrow. "Sirius, you are an intelligent being. With that being said, _how can you possibly be so dim-witted all of the time?_"

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but James cut right across, "Speaking of Evans, who's she playing?"

"Ivy," Remus answered. The object of James's unreciprocated affections. How fitting. He dug out his script and busied himself with highlighting lines, while James and Peter lamented that they would have to put on a musical, that they didn't really want to, that James only took Muggle Studies because Evans was related to muggles, and Peter only took Muggle Studies because the rest of them did and he didn't want to be the odd man out, and wasn't this assignment aggravating, and what was the point, and on and on.

"It could be fun," Sirius said fairly, idly flipping the pages of his script, though clearly watching the way the pages bent, and not actually reading a word of it.

"Especially when you get to snog Moony day and night," James teased, good-naturedly.

Sirius dropped his script, which fell onto his face, which he then flung to the floor in his hurry to confront James. It toppled to the carpet at about the same pace as Remus's stomach, which plummeted to somewhere around his feet.

"What do you mean, 'snog Moony'?"

This was the part Remus had not been looking forward to, the reason he took the long way back to Gryffindor Tower as his feet wandered round and round in thought. What would it be like playing this role opposite Sirius? Would it make a difference if it were James or Peter that Remus needed to be in love with? He told himself that it wouldn't be any different, that it would still be just as awkward, because they were friends, and they didn't feel that way about boys, none of them, and Sirius was just the same as James and Peter, and Remus felt no differently about him than he did his other friends.

Except, that wasn't true. Not in the slightest.

James had been cast as the longing, lovesick boy thrown to the side by the girl he so admired. Remus was cast as the boy struggling with his sexuality and his feelings for a lifelong friend and roommate. There was an eerie resonance of truth in all this that made Remus's skin prickle when he thought of what else Professor Andersen might know.

Meanwhile, James was making kissing faces at Sirius and producing an awful, bizarre sucking noise in the process. His eyebrows waggled suggestively as Sirius's hand flailed through the air, trying to make contact with James's face but not really succeeding in the slightest.

"You honestly didn't read the script, did you? You and Moony basically spend the whole play lusting for each other. Could be fun, eh?" James laughed, though Peter gave James a quick thwack in the shins.

Sirius looked caught, glancing back and forth between James and Remus, who couldn't meet his eye. "Is this a good idea? Maybe I shouldn't accept the part. I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing and I, well, it's just, no offense, Moony, but I don't know if I'm the right pick or if I'd be any good at this acting thing."

There it was. The truth. The confession Remus had been expecting for the past half hour, despite how sorely he wished his fears would go unfounded. That was Sirius, wasn't it? His mate. His heterosexual mate. His never-in-the-least-bit-romantically-interested, heterosexual mate. Remus knew he was a fool for ever entertaining any notion that things could be otherwise.

"Considering your nonexistent work ethic, your lack of maturity, and your unwillingness to actually learn about Muggles— which is rather the point of the class— then perhaps you should turn down the part and let people who actually care work on this," Remus snapped, shoving his script into his bag. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Without looking back and— most importantly— without looking at Sirius, Remus hurried from the room. He needed to think and for that, he needed the refuge of solitude.


	2. Chapter 2: You & I

**Word Count: **1,548  
**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius  
**Era:** MWPP  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now. Also, I know many people who are annoyed by mis-describing Sirius's eyes as blue. That happens in this chapter, but because of song lyrics, not my own mistake.  
**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song 'You & I," which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read, because it's beautiful and sexy (search 'bare a pop opera you and i' and it's 4:01 with stained glass on a black background). Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

The cast was gathered in their new Muggle Studies classroom— a large room, with a high, cavernous stone ceiling. At the beginning of the week, when rehearsals first began and they first arrived in this new location, Remus marveled that this classroom wasn't used more often. It felt so open, despite the large furnishings, though he doubted whether those fittings were always present. On the far end, a platform had been constructed, to serve as the stage. Heavy, velvet curtains hung from the ceiling, concealing enough space to form the wings. The rest of the room was full of chairs, all set into raised levels, like their Charms classroom. Only, instead of forming a valley, with rows of seats rising up on either side, everything went straight back to the far wall. Although the room maintained the austerity and formality of other Hogwarts classrooms, it had become a proper theatre.

Rehearsals were going well. If 'well' in the Remus Lupin Dictionary meant 'extremely uncomfortable' and 'far too revealing,' then they were going very, very well. All that had really been accomplished so far were several afternoons and a few evenings— for those with bigger roles, which had made James cringe as he cancelled Quidditch practice— filled with people singing and dancing to the song of Remus's newly-hatched understanding of his sexuality. The only comfort was that people thought he was blushing because he was a little stage fright, a little nervous about singing or acting in front of them, when really it was the subject matter that was making him flush with embarrassment. Today, it seemed, would be getting no better.

"You two are close friends, aren't you?" Professor Andersen asked, as Remus and Sirius stood facing each other on the makeshift stage, tactfully held scripts keeping their bodies comfortably apart. They nodded and she continued, "Then I'd like to see a little more chemistry! It doesn't matter if you actually feel this way about each other. The point is, you're close and the audience should be able to see that. Stop being afraid and just get on with it!"

Remus made a solemn vow, then and there, that musical theatre would never become one of his interests. He would have rather melted into the floor to never resurface than perform this song with Sirius in front of all these people.

"From the top, boys," Professor Andersen instructed, gently prodding an old piano with her wand, which began to play of its own accord. Although convenient, that didn't seem to be much in the spirit of Muggle Studies. Remus didn't have long to ponder that, though, because he soon started the familiar hurry across the stage, murmuring the "Hail Mary."

And then there came Sirius, all bravado and charm.

_"Hey little boy, would you like a ride? A lollipop? A puppy? How about a baseball bat? There's one in my pants,"_ Sirius swiveled his hips in a manner Remus assumed was supposed to be seductive. He blushed nonetheless.

_"No, thank you. My mom, she said to never talk to strangers."_

Sirius had crossed towards him, and was leaning too close, a smile playing at his lips as he sang. _"So a kiss is out of the question, then?"_

_"I'll take a chance,"_ Remus sang back, and Sirius leaned in, but pulled back just before their lips met, as the two characters reacted to other students passing through. The near-kiss made Remus falter when singing his next line.

They continued, lines overlapping, other characters coming on and off the stage to do their bits, while the two boys remained center. Sirius made sure to keep Remus as close as possible— be it with a hand on his waist, the proximity of their faces, or the way Sirius leaned towards him. This was seduction. It didn't matter that it was Remus. Sirius knew what to do.

_"Jason, have a date for prom yet?"_ Lily chorused as she passed by.

_"Jason, did you lose my number?"_ A Hufflepuff girl blew a kiss with the line.

_"This is all just a game. You and I. You take my hand, leaving me breathless,"_ Sirius grabbed both of Remus's hands in his, and pulled up against him. Remus could feel Sirius's breath against his face with every note. He assumed his face betrayed some measure of fear, because Sirius smiled so gently, so reassuringly. _"Take a look in these big blue eyes, so you'll understand and know why we whisper in hallways. I'll be with you always, running together, forever you and I."_

Sirius reached up to brush Remus's jawline— a new move, which caught Remus off-guard. He tripped while backing up from Sirius, though he was still thankful the staging gave him the opportunity to pull away, to turn his back, to see something other than the rather entrancing way Sirius's lips looked when he sang.

_"Tell me why I should trust you when the girls all lust to touch you,"_ Remus demanded forcefully, brief images of Sirius's short-term girlfriends from the past two years swimming to the forefront of his mind, much against his will.

Remus felt arms wrap around his waist as Sirius hugged him from behind, _"Cause when I have you near me I go out of my mind. Need help there?"_

_"You're cute and it's tough to argue with a hard-on. Think that you could lend a hand here?"_ He tried to cast a flirtatious glance over his shoulder. Remus was certain it wound up more of a grimace.

_"If I had the time,"_ Sirius cooed in his ear, giving the top of Remus's head a playful ruffle.

On they sang. Jason-Sirius promised to never leave Peter-Remus, which made real-Remus feel slightly gelatinous. Peter-Remus proposed coming out to his mother, which made real-Remus really just nauseous. And then Sirius was off on the refrain again, flirting, and tangling their hands, and all around getting too close for comfort— not because Remus didn't enjoy being close to Sirius, but because he was so keenly aware of how _much_ he enjoyed the proximity.

_"There's something that I want to ask you— Don't say no, just hear me out. After school they hold auditions. Something just to think about,"_ Remus trailed off, his eyes falling to his shoes. He knew the response that was coming, not only because he knew the song, but because Sirius had given the same response just the other day, in the Common Room.

_"God, you said the same thing last year! You know acting's not my thing. Plus, I might go out for baseball and I neither dance nor sing."_

Remus rounded on Sirius, a little too much real-life hurt coming out in his voice, _"You have never mentioned baseball. You haven't played since we were twelve! And as for 'acting's not my thing,' it's obvious it's something else."_

_"I don't act,"_ Sirius replied, resolute. But the Peter character was right— there was something else. Though he couldn't speak for Jason, the reason for Sirius was Remus and how little Sirius wanted the same physical closeness that now had Remus's head spinning.

Remus laughed ironically, _"I think we're the best act this school has ever seen!"_

Their bickering singing was interrupted by Sirius, playing the flirt again. His limbs had wound their way around Remus, strong arms against his back, one ankle inching its way behind Remus's legs. This resulted in a new closeness that more or less stopped Remus's heart, though it was impossible to tell whether from fear or from longing. They had entered into the scary realm Remus dubbed "crotch closeness."

If that weren't bad enough, they were also forehead to forehead, lips centimeters apart. Every word Sirius sung felt like its own kiss.

_"We'll think about it tonight, when everything is right. We'll shut off all the lights and cuddle in bed, and see how far we get,"_ Sirius's hand drifted along Remus's torso, sliding down, and down, till it rested teasingly, on the top of his thigh.

_"Is that supposed to shut me up?"_ Remus asked, the familiar sensation of I-can't-maintain-this-stern-expression creeping through his face, while Sirius's eyes twinkled deviously.

He drummed his fingers on the inside of Remus's leg. _"Yeah."_

_"Jerk,"_ Remus replied, with a playful shove and a laugh that felt more Sirius-and-Remus than it did Jason-and-Peter. He couldn't tell if he imagined it or not, but there was a new energy in Sirius, as though he, too, felt the closeness of being themselves, rather than acting.

_"You and I. You take my hand, leaving me breathless. Take a look in these big blue eyes so you'll understand. You'll know why we whisper in hallways. I'll be with you always, running together…"_ Sirius trailed off, throwing a wink and an unfairly attractive smile in Remus's direction before he exited. _"Miss me."_

Remus was left alone on stage, staring off into the wing, where Sirius was now watching him, _"Forever you and I."_

The enchanted piano stopped. The rest of the class gave Remus and Sirius a brief, modest applause.

"Better," Professor Andersen cooed with a smile and an approving nod, "But Remus, next time, try not to look so terrified."


	3. Chapter 3: Role of a Lifetime

**Word Count:** 2,099

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song 'Role of a Lifetime," which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read (look for the stained glass on a black background). This song is my personal favorite, and I don't think I quite did its beauty justice in this chapter. Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

Sirius trotted out from backstage, giving a bow and charming smile towards the only half-interested audience. He offered Remus a high five, a congratulations for their successful and saucy performance, and then jumped from stage to ground with a thud that sent a tingling feeling up his shins.

"Remus, as long as we've got you up there," Professor Andersen began, when Remus was halfway to the stairs— because he wasn't a jumper, not like Sirius, "It's fine if you haven't, but have you done much work on Role of a Lifetime?"

Remus nodded, with a relieved smile and a look of determination, and an awkward little turnabout as he headed center stage again. Sirius dropped himself with a rather ungraceful 'thud' into the empty chair beside James, wondering when Remus had found the time. He couldn't help but suspect that Remus had invented a few assignments or errands lately, in order to skulk away and practice on his own.

The piano took to playing again, while Remus squeezed his eyes shut tightly and inhaled slowly, deeply. Sirius hadn't heard this song yet, and he frowned slightly, his head tilting to the side in thought. Was it just Remus on this one?

The heavy, coursing melody that began to fill the room was stern and dark, and Remus looked so small, so thin up there on his own. But there it was, the familiar intensity on his face, in the way he held his body. Remus was complicated, his emotions heavily layered as a line of defense, but it was still obvious, at least to Sirius, when there was something raging beneath his face that grew older in unfair leaps and bounds.

_"Everything's an act, when you're pleasing everyone,"_

The first thing Sirius noticed was how singularly beautiful Remus's voice sounded. He'd been hearing it all week, but Sirius hadn't properly paid attention, not till now. The way it rose and fell in swirls, a weaving of dark to light, heavy and difficult to buoyant and freely soaring, and then back under Remus's tight control— all of that felt like Remus.

_"The role of a lifetime is living a fantasy, a drama that you struggle to erase,"_ Remus sang and Sirius stared. The character disappeared. He saw only Remus, soft lines and scars and a resolute strength. _"Thoughts battle words over deeds, a war with such casualties, all played out behind a smiling face."_

Maybe Professor Andersen was right, that the theatre was its own brand of magic. Sitting there, watching Remus, felt so heightened, like a physical ache with every new measure of music.

_"God, I need Your guidance. Tell me what it means to live a life where nothing's as it seems,"_ Remus continued, his tenor voice gaining strength as he neared the top of the rise and fall melody, all the while Sirius grew more and more entranced. He could tell, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he needed to step back, that the room was fading except for Remus, shining a pale golden color beneath the stage lights.

But Sirius couldn't process the need to let this go, not now, not when his heart was hammering and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. And certainly not now, when he saw Remus so clearly— and that was the remarkable thing, because looking at Remus was never the same as seeing Remus. Looking at Remus was sweaters. Looking at Remus was don't-worry-about-me-smiles, and soft hair, and ink-stained fingers, and something peaceful, serene, and wholly endearing. But that moment on stage, that was seeing Remus. It was seeing pain and confusion, and constant lies and the understanding that his life would always be partly hidden, that he would always have this weight on him. He saw someone who had been forced into maturity long before he was ready for it.

_"Spending days in silent fear,"_ Remus sang, and the words sent a jolt through Sirius, wrapping around his lungs and constricting his airflow, _"and spending nights in lonely prayer, hoping that one day when you wake, those feelings won't be there."_

Sirius wanted to grab Remus, to hold him so tightly that no beams of moonlight could ever hit him, and no whispered words about his new scars or injuries would ever reach his ears. He supposed the urge was always present, somewhere, though it was all the more acute now. His hands clenched. Sirius would always be powerless, no matter how much he tried to or wanted to help, and nothing killed him more than that knowledge. No matter how hard he tried to make Remus laugh or smile, he couldn't actually _fix_ anything.

He could do nothing but remain caught in the dips and swells of Remus's voice.

_"So confused, because I feel complete with him,"_ An honesty shone on Remus's face, a glimmer of a smile breaking through the clouds, _"When we're alone, it all somehow makes sense."_

Sirius felt the smile mimicked on his face, a warm little tug on his lips, much like a gulp of hot butterbeer after being out in the cold. But that momentary happiness wasn't his to claim. Sirius hadn't created that smile for Remus— Jason had, for Peter. Remus surely didn't mean that about him, didn't feel the same sense of _rightness_ when they were together. Yet, the inky fingers and grumpy morning sarcasm were more real to Sirius than any persona Remus could portray. Although this was class and it was acting, Sirius couldn't deny that this was also Remus. This song wasn't about him, but it still felt like it, too strongly.

_"You learn to play the straight man. Your lines become routine,"_ Remus sang, eyes falling to the ground. His lean fingers plucked at the hem of his sweater, working to tuck the loose threads out of sight, _"Never really saying what you mean."_

Sirius winced as Remus's words danced before his eyes, blazing brightly and pummeling a nasty feeling into his gut. Play. Straight. Routine.

The form of the words shifted to memories that flowed without Sirius's consent. He saw faces— pretty blonde curls, long lashes, freckled noses, full lips against his, eyes that drank him in, laughter and conversation and body heat. And then, there came the excuses, ringing in his ears, with his own voice, saying that 'she's not right for me,' or 'things stopped working out,' with a casual shrug. Throughout the churning pubescent years, the line of girls never seemed to shorten, no matter how many he turned away after a few dates, a few weeks, or just a few nights, as Sirius sought to find himself in one of them.

_"But I know the scene will change— white picket fences, and a dog, a trophy bride, and children. God, I know that's what he wants,"_

No, it's not! Sirius wanted to scream. He felt the panic again, the familiar panic. He didn't confide it in James, nor Remus, nor Peter. They all thought he was just a casual dater, aloof, thrill-seeking. He was just a flirt, who enjoyed going from girl to girl to girl, leaving broken hearts in his wake. While they believed that, Sirius panicked, because no one felt right, because the spark always died too quickly, because what if no one would ever be right, and what if something was wrong with him? He panicked because everyone else seemed to know what and who they wanted. He panicked because the only girl who had ever interested him thoroughly had been quiet and bookish and soft, and she reminded him of Remus, and she smelled like clean fabric and warmth the way Remus did, and then they were kissing, and then he thought of Remus, and he kept kissing her and he kept thinking of Remus. They broke up somewhere in the middle of Sirius's whirlwind of denial that Remus had anything to do with their particularly good night together, that thinking of his mate while doing such things was just a fluke, some momentary oddity, that it had nothing to do with the reason why no _girl_ ever felt right.

_"Where confusion is a crime,"_ Remus's voice broke through Sirius's frenzied thoughts, and the images swelled and shifted. His parents. His brother. The burn mark that tore through the image of Sirius on his own family tree.

Remus's voice grew in volume and strength, filling the room and wrapping about Sirius till he was fairly certain he was breathing it as well as hearing it,_"So you fill your life with sound, and if you dance like hell, you hope you never touch the ground."_

Wasn't this Sirius? Wasn't this Sirius and Remus? The secrets and the hurt and the fear, coupled with Sirius's life of questioning and questioning until he was silenced by those he asked? But at least he had his answer then. At least he knew, when he probed his family, asking why, that he was right and they were wrong.

But the other questions Sirius had about himself, the ones he swallowed up and forgot existed? The budding suspicions he tried to hush and shove out of sight? If he never explored that heavily guarded portion of his mind, wasn't he just as bad as the people who accepted without question, who ignored the tugging on their conscious?

_"What happens when the music stops? In the silence, will he stay?"_ Sirius fought the urge to nod. Instead, he settled for twisting his hands around in his lap, and uncomfortably pursing his lips. _"One day he'll realize that these feelings aren't going away."_

The sounds and the words coursed through his blood, like something venomous— but beautifully so— taking over his body. Although Remus's gaze was transfixed into the distance, at some unknowable sight or emotion, Sirius felt like those lyrics were for him. Maybe not from Remus, precisely, but it had to be some sort of omen, didn't it? Remus did, after all, have a habit of being right. He knew the answers to every test and every question the professors asked in class. Of course Remus had the answer for him now.

_"So we drive ourselves insane, spinning circles in our souls, as we dance around and play pretend. And once again, reprise our roles,"_ Remus fell silent, his voice fading from the room, as the gentle piano tune came to a close and a rich, melodic cello— an enchantment, Sirius suspected, for there was no cello present— swirled through the space, and came to a halt.

The rest of the class gave Remus the same polite, subdued applause. Professor Andersen's mouth moved and said something encouraging to him, but Sirius did not hear. Remus smiled at the Professor, full of timidity and modesty, and then glanced towards his friends. There was uncertainty in his eyes, concern. Sirius grinned, as broadly and earnestly as he could manage, till the muscles at the top of his jaw protested.

Remus, officially, had all the answers. The fact that Remus might also be the answer was another matter entirely. Sirius watched him leave the stage, with a gentle trot down the stairs, keeping his eyes lowered, always trying to be unobtrusive. He smiled.

It was impossible not to smile, really. This was his Remus, who was burdened and afraid, who was stronger than the lot of them combined, who had a quiet dignity about him, who was a warm brown, like milk being poured into tea. Remus always took milk in his tea, every morning.

"Oi, Padfoot! You look like you were just Confunded," That sounded like James. Was it James? It had to be James. Sirius started and glanced around at his friends, who all appeared ready to leave and were looking at Sirius with the utmost confusion. Remus was once more among their ranks, and their eyes met, and Sirius momentarily forgot how words worked.

"Hm? No, it's just, er, I'm fine, I was just— Do you want to grab some dinner?" Sirius garbled quickly, hurriedly grabbing his things and straightening the front of his robes.

The other three exchanged exasperated glances, while Sirius tried to cement himself back in reality.

"That's what 'I'm hungry, let's eat,' usually means, mate," Peter explained, clapping Sirius on the shoulder as the four headed from the classroom. "Do you listen to anything, Padfoot?"

Sirius produced a twitchy, apologetic sort of smile. As his eyes once more settled on Remus, Sirius realized that perhaps he listened too closely for his own good.


	4. Chapter 4: Private Rehearsal

**Word Count:** 2,042

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now. I should also add that I am not William Shakespeare, I did not write Romeo and Juliet, and I have no claim whatsoever on those words.

**In this chapter...:** No songs this time! Just, know that Bare contains Romeo and Juliet as well, and excerpts of that text appear here. They're noted by context. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

It was Sunday at lunchtime, which could only mean one thing— the James Potter Quidditch Recap. Gryffindor had lost to Ravenclaw yesterday in a show of remarkably poor timing, clumsy flying, and several wonky bludgers. James was sourly recounting every mistake they had made, everything they should have done better, and what this would mean for their match against Slytherin in two weeks. The chants of "Gryffindors cannot fly, shoot those lions from the sky" issuing from the Slytherin table and half of the Ravenclaw table were not helping James's mood in the slightest.

"Oi, Doyle! Come here!" James called out, as Gryffindor's round-faced seeker passed by. "We have Quidditch to talk."

If James was occupied with a teammate, it meant Remus was relieved from the Best Friend Duty of listening to his rants. As much as he wanted to be supportive, it was nearly 24-hours since the game had ended, and he was still hearing about it. There was only so much Quidditch Remus could take, especially when he had other things to do.

"I'll catch up with you later," Remus said, as he excused himself quickly.

Sirius, however, halted him, garbling through a mouth full of chicken, "And where do you think you're going?"

"The— er, the library," Remus responded, quickly. But he had hesitated. He hesitated and now Sirius knew he was lying. Anyone else in the world, he could avoid and evade, but Sirius was the only one who could make him slip up. Besides, there was really only so much time Remus could conceivably spend in the library while still having some semblance of a social life.

Sirius asked where he was really headed, and Remus explained, a little sheepishly, that he was going to the Room of Requirement, to rehearse.

"I'll come with you!" Sirius replied brightly, leaping to his feet and waving farewell to James and Peter, without much of a backward glance. Poor Peter was left alone to listen to James berate his seeker.

Sirius rambled all the way to the Room of Requirement, mostly about a new scheme he'd been thinking up, and how brilliant it would be, and whether or not it was legal to purchase nifflers in bulk. He mused that it probably wasn't explicitly illegal, which was basically the same as 'permissible' in Sirius Land, and weren't there some silly rules in the world, like saying 'Bless you' when people sneezed. Remus countered that that wasn't really a rule— that was just manners.

"Well, when I run the world, we won't have such nonsense," Sirius declared, as he and Remus began to pace back and forth past the tapestry as inconspicuously as possible.

Remus grinned wryly, "Oh no, I'm sure there wouldn't be anything even remotely nonsensical in a world run by Sirius Black."

"Of course not. What would make you think otherwise?" Sirius replied, straight faced. Remus grinned, playfully nudging Sirius with his shoulder, which broke the other's stern countenance and they both laughed.

A door appeared then and, after ascertaining that no one could see them, the pair slipped through. The first thing Remus noticed was that this looked incredibly different from the practice room he'd been conjuring all week. That room had been stark, with not much besides a piano and a chair. This room was cozier, and warmer. There was a roaring fire on the one end, with a plushy loveseat before it. The piano was still present, though it was not the sole feature of the room. Along the walls, there hung lush drapes that made everything seem— Remus gulped— rather romantic.

He supposed this was his fault— and by extension, Sirius's fault. He'd been distracted, and his thoughts about Sirius had drifted, and this was the result. The only thing missing was a bouquet of roses— Damn.

A crystal vase filled with fresh, red roses appeared atop the piano. The Room of Requirement, it seemed, did not understand sarcasm. That, or it had grown tired of Remus's singing and had set its sights on torturing him.

"Cozy," Sirius remarked simply, dropping gracefully onto the loveseat. He dug out his script and patted the space beside him.

"Wouldn't it be better to do this standing? To review blocking as well?" Remus proposed, mostly just nervous about sitting next to Sirius Black on an admittedly small couch in an admittedly romantic setting, whilst all alone with him.

"Depends on what you want to work on. We haven't really blocked out too much of our time on stage together yet. We might as well get familiar with a scene we haven't done yet. Besides, it's not like there's a whole hell of a lot of dialogue in this show,"

Remus told himself that this argument made sense, that it was rational, that it was a good idea, and that— and that alone— was what caused him to sit beside Sirius on the too-small couch where their shoulders rubbed together and their knees bumped. But only because Sirius had a good idea.

Sirius murmured questions about where to start as he idly flipped through the pages. Remus did the same, and was about to suggest that they work on one of the few bits of dialogue they did have later in Act I, when Sirius spoke.

"We should probably do this,"

Remus glanced over, and despite all the other words on the page, one sentence of stage direction jumped out at him immediately— PETER and JASON kiss passionately.

"The— the song? That's what you want to work on?" Remus stammered.

"Well, yes, but I've been thinking. We should probably— er, probably kiss now. It'll break the tension and we'll be more comfortable in the long run. I mean, we can't put it off forever, so, better sooner than later, eh?"

That seemed unbelievable. Remus felt like his saliva had turned to rock and was now trapped in his gullet, blocking all airflow. He was also suddenly conscious about every taste on his tongue, and whether or not his breath smelled. Damn whoever thought it was a good idea to make sauces with onions.

"So…" Sirius nudged Remus, who remembered rather suddenly that Sirius had just proposed kissing him, yet Remus hadn't said anything back.

He cleared his throat, "For once, you're probably right. For the sake of the show."

"Right," Sirius agreed, rolling and unrolling his script. "Just a quick one, then."

Before Remus could respond, he felt Sirius's hands gently cupping his face, fingers light and unsure. And then Sirius kissed him, squarely on the mouth, with more vigor than he was expecting, and Remus nearly stopped breathing.

After a moment, Sirius pulled back, folded his hands in his lap, and stared at the ground. Remus merely gazed at him, blinking repeatedly, as though that would help him think. He had just kissed Sirius. He kissed Sirius. There was a brief span of time where Sirius's lips were on his, and they were kissing. Maybe, if he phrased that thought in different ways, it would start to make sense.

Whatever that was, it certainly wasn't 'just a quick one.'

"I guess that means you're keeping the role, then?" Remus asked, hoping that his voice sounded steadier than his insides felt.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah. You were really good, the other day. With the singing and stuff."

"With the singing and stuff?" Remus repeated, laughing faintly. He wasn't entirely sure what 'and stuff' meant, but he accepted the compliment nonetheless.

After that point, the rest of their private rehearsal passed in a blur.

Remus tried his hand at the magic accompaniment, but could only manage to get the piano to play their starting notes. They sang, they ran lines, they worked on memorization. Sirius grew distracted, Remus hit him over the head with a script, Sirius laughed, Sirius hit back, all hell broke loose, and hell did not draw to a close until Sirius threw a pillow and Remus ducked and it landed in the fire and started to burn, and the two exited the Room of Requirement with great speed at that point, laughing their fool heads off once they were out of harm's way.

Remus was still giddy by the time they reached Gryffindor Tower and he smiled to himself as he nestled into an armchair to begin the only real purpose of Sunday night— last minute homework he'd ignored all weekend. Although, it was admittedly difficult to discuss the properties of charmed liquids when his mind rejected all thoughts that did not involve Sirius or kissing.

Sirius took the stairs up to the Dormitory two at a time. He felt downright enlightened. The greatest mystery of all was now clear to him. He knew what Remus's lips felt like, and the sensation was unbelievably pleasant, and the world hadn't ended in the process, and generally all things were good in his universe.

As he opened the door, he heard James's voice, proclaiming loudly to himself, "'Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford no better term than this— thou art a villain!'"

"Ah, hold on, don't tell me— 'Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the… the…' oh, what is it?" Sirius made a mental note to request that Remus help him memorize all those Shakespeare lines the next time they rehearsed together.

"'Appertaining rage,'" James replied, after a quick consultation of the page in front of him, "If I'd known Bare included all this Elizabethan gobbledegook, I might have thought twice about everything."

Sirius knelt before his trunk, talking over his shoulder as he searched for the Charms textbook he'd promised to lend Moony, "You know, I'm starting to warm up to this whole thing."

"I'd like it a whole lot more if it weren't so eerily accurate."

Sirius gave a start, accidentally banging his elbow on the edge of his trunk and swearing loudly, as he turned to face James.

"How d'you mean?" He asked, suddenly conscious about whether his feelings for Remus were that obvious.

"My character wants Lily's character. She pays him no mind," James lamented, flopping back onto his bed, arms spread-eagle. "Although, I guess I can play the part well. Kind of spooky though, innit? It's like our professor _knows."_

Sirius agreed, absently, his thoughts wandering to the boy downstairs. It was spooky.

"Still," James said fairly, rolling over onto his stomach so he could look Sirius in the eye, "You and Moony make a good couple— in the show, I mean."

Sirius smiled, "You think?"

He wanted to tell James everything, then and there— how being around Moony was different than being with the other Marauders, how he felt differently about him, how he wondered if Moony thought these same things, how they'd kissed earlier and how much Sirius wanted to do it again, without any pretense. All those years, he thought James was just exaggerating when he talked about Lily, but it was starting to make sense to him now, that some relationships were like that.

All these words had practically formed on his lips— the confessions that his best friend, of all people, needed to hear— and they were ready to spill out into the universe when he thought of Remus. This wasn't just Sirius's secret. At least, he didn't think it was.

"Well, speak of the devil, I have to get this book to him," Sirius finally said, swallowing his secrets. He didn't like keeping things from James, but he also didn't like the thought of revealing something that would make Remus uncomfortable. One day, he and James would have that conversation, but not now.

James, on the other hand, merely stared as his best friend left the room, shook his head, and then returned to his script.

When Peter came upstairs about half an hour later, the first thing he did was ask if James had talked to Sirius, and if there was any word about the all-too-suspicious afternoon Moony-Padfoot rendez-vous.

"No updates," James replied.

"He hasn't admitted it yet?" Peter questioned, a tone of genuine surprise in his voice.

James shook his head, "But I definitely think you're right about him and Moony."

"Of course I'm right, you tosser."


	5. Chapter 5: Best Kept Secret

**Word Count:** ~1,700

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song 'Best Kept Secret,' which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read (look for the stained glass on a black background). Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a quick read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

"Well, I guess I'm reassured that none of you know how to dance like you're at a rave," Despite her words, Professor Andersen looked anything but reassured. Frustrated was probably the most accurate word for her expression. "Sirius, Remus, would you please run Best Kept Secret? I need to end this rehearsal on a good note, so that means something without any of your attempts at dancing."

The rest of the cast cleared off, the less rhythmically inclined students wearing expressions of sheepish guilt. Once the shuffling of feet, quiet murmur of conversation, and squeaking of chairs had died down, Professor Andersen started the music.

Sirius gave Remus a small shrug, his best here-goes-nothing expression on his face. There was going to be an awful lot of touching over the next few minutes, and Sirius could only hope that it would go smoothly, that his body would not betray him in any sort of way. Not that he minded, the intimacy with Remus, for a good number of reasons. Generally, Sirius had minimal boundaries when it came to touch, caused by early Hogwarts years full of friendly roughhousing with James, and Remus, too, from time to time. Although, those memories now made Sirius blush, given many of his thoughts lately involved pinning Remus down in an entirely different sense.

Muggle Studies had become a cathartic outlet as well as a catalyst. It was gratifying to do these sort of scenes with Remus, but they also just made him want more, more, more.

Gently, Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus— one hand steady on his back, holding him tightly, protecting, while the other draped over his shoulder, _"I know this world can have a place for us, if we just try to find a way to trust that time will be kind."_

While he sang, he watched the way Remus's eyes would meet his, then look away, and then return shyly, as though Remus were asking permission, as though he were testing the waters. It was enough to dissolve most of his internal organs into something gooey and warm, something that urged him to disregard all sense and snog Remus then and there

_"We have to wait until the world is fast asleep,"_ Sirius sang, noticing for the first time that his thumb had been absently stroking along the slope of Remus's neck. He froze, for a moment, but desire got the better of him and he continued to caress him. As long as Remus thought it was acting, as long as his classmates didn't know the thoughts in his head, it was fine. _"I'll wipe away the doubt and show you why we keep the best kept secret, the best kept secret of all."_

_"All I ever want is there in your eyes,"_ Remus replied and Sirius was again struck by the gentleness, the vulnerability in his voice. _"They tell me I'm alright and I realize, I always knew."_

He could feel a small smile on his lips, too small for the audience to notice. It was for Remus, belonging only to the two of them.

A length of Remus's hair had come loose from behind his ear, falling across his forehead and into his eyes. Sirius took the opportunity to gently push it back, to tuck it into place. That was better. He wanted to see every inch of Remus, especially those eyes, that stared at Sirius beneath weighty lids, full with a hazy gleam and drowsy contentment. Bedroom eyes.

_"We whisper words when we're alone at night. I want to hear them in the morning light,"_ Remus continued, still staring at Sirius in a way that made him question everything. Was this just his imagination running wild? It had to be. Remus certainly, absolutely, _definitely, _did not think about him in any sort of a way that would cause that expression. Although, what was the harm in pretending? The thought of warm whispers and ruffled, shared sheets was embarrassingly appealing. _  
_

_"__And with love on our side, maybe we'd be alright. _Beneath a million stars, there's no need to pretend," Remus continued, which instantly brought to mind the dozens of nights the Marauders spent out on the grounds, be it a full moon or not. Those were some of Sirius's favorite times, because once the castle walls had disappeared, it was just the four boys, out in the world, and that expanse of darkness always felt like it pushed them closer, like the gentle bump of hands was okay, like it was all okay. _"I look around tonight and wonder why we can't end the best kept secret."_

_"It's best kept secret,"_ Sirius sang softly, breaking eye contact for the first time since they'd began. He didn't believe that. Maybe this wasn't something boys normally did or felt, but Sirius felt it, and that had to count for something. He had given up the struggle a long time ago, to mold himself to fit someone else's idea of right and wrong.

Regardless, the music turned harsh, and Sirius had to pull away, while Remus sang the next line. _"Don't you see how no one in there cared? A thousand people saw us dancing there. You have to give the world a chance—"_

Sirius cut him off with a bitter argument, with words he didn't really mean, _"A chance to what? To see how deep the world can cut?"_ He doubted very much that thousands of people would approve, but there were only three people whose opinions really mattered, and they would not care. Of course, one of those people was now standing opposite him, looking incredibly hurt, which didn't help matters in the slightest.

_"This is all a fantasy, then we go back to school,"_ Sirius sang, a nasty feeling in his stomach as he watched the resignation on Remus's face. Remus didn't need Jason-Sirius to remind him, because he knew, better than anyone in the whole bloody school, that the world was not an accepting place. Sirius was the one who needed the reminder, that his intimacy with Remus was for class, for a character, that it wasn't their real relationship, no matter how much the opposite occupied his thoughts. As the sung accusations flew between them, Sirius longed for the closeness of a few moments ago.

The music finally turned soft again, resuming its gentle, caressing lull. It was like a weight lifting, like Sirius could stop facing the stark reality of platonic friendship, could pretend again. Fantasy it may be, but he was entitled to enjoy every feigned second of it.

_"You know we can't go on forever this way,"_ Remus begged, gently taking Sirius by the hand, giving a tug to lead him back into the moment. He felt more whole at that touch alone, and wanted to collapse into a comfortable embrace.

But Sirius had his blocking to follow and he stayed resolute. _"All this 'forever,' can't you live for today?"_

_"We have to grow up. There's so much more to love."_ Remus urged, wrapping his arms around Sirius, forcing them face to face once more. His expression had an unusual quality— it looked the way falling asleep felt, a sort of serenity and warmth as everything else began to fade. Sirius wanted nothing more than to pull him close, to rest his cheek against the top of his head and really fall asleep, right here, standing up and everything. He wanted to see that sleepy face every night.

But, of course, he couldn't do either. There was a song to be sung, after all, and the stage was not a proper place for midday naps. So, they sung on, in harmony now, which sent a small shiver down Sirius's spine. He and Remus sounded good together. He and Remus _were_ good together.

They were nearing the end now, and quickly approaching the kiss, the first one in front of the entire class, which certainly raised the stakes just a little. He tried to savor the moment, to think of only Remus, but he could still feel the audience watching. As in the Room of Requirement, Sirius steadied Remus with his hands, before leaning towards him to kiss gently and to wish that everything on his mind would transfer into Remus through the pressure of his lips. It was not quite the same this time, this kiss, knowing that all eyes were on them. The music began to fade.

Sirius pulled away and pressed his forehead against Remus's, smiling softly and distantly as their eyes locked. He waited. Remus still had one more line.

"I love you, Sirius— I-I mean, Jason!"

Remus's eyes grew wide in shock, and he stumbled back from Sirius, hand clapped over his mouth. Sirius gaped, a million thoughts rushing through his head, that he would not have the time or the presence of mind to even voice. In a flurry of shared embarrassment for Remus, Professor Andersen quickly dismissed the class, with a reminder that she would see leads back again tonight for more rehearsal.


	6. Chapter 6: Ever After

**Word Count:** 2,373

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song 'Ever After' which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read, (search 'bare a pop opera you and i' and it's stained glass on a black background). Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a short read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

After dinner that evening, post-Remus's-life-altering-hugely-appalling-verbal-mess-up, James and Peter quickly excused themselves, each with his own vague reason for the departure. Sirius and Remus were left to return to Gryffindor Tower alone.

They didn't speak the entire way.

Once they were back in their Dormitory, Sirius sat on his bed, looked Remus squarely in the eyes and said "So," with a clap of his hands. He wanted answers, and rightly so, but Remus couldn't do that— not right now, and probably not ever.

If only he hadn't made such a big deal out of his blunder. He still could have passed it off as nothing, if he hadn't been so mortified by his mouth's betrayal, if he hadn't overreacted, if he hadn't been so afraid and subsequently destroyed his only chance at shrugging it off. Now Remus had to answer to his little Freudian slip, and explain why the mistake had left him speechless all through the rest of lessons and all through dinner.

"You're embarrassed," Sirius noted, when Remus had still not found the words to start. He gave a funny little half-shrug and a noise that was supposed to be nonchalant and casual, but really only sounded like a nervous chicken before a beheading.

"Look, it was just— I slipped, I'm sorry," He hurriedly explained, hoping that would mollify Sirius.

Sirius uttered a sarcastic 'mhm' before gesturing for Remus to come sit down, "You've been acting strange, and you're going to talk to me, or so help me, I will tickle you into submission, Lupin." He waggled his fingers to prove that his threat was not hollow.

"There's nothing to talk about! I told you, I didn't mean it!" Remus snapped, holding his ground. He would not be coerced into a revelation that easily.

Sirius sighed heavily, rising to his feet and coming to Remus. Instinctively, he glanced away, arms crossed to keep Sirius at a distance. Just like when he was four, Remus held tight to the notion that if he didn't see Sirius, then Sirius couldn't do anything unfortunate.

"We've done this before. With the werewolf thing, remember? I know when you're lying to me, practiced though you may be," Sirius stated calmly. He gave Remus's chin a little nudge, forcing him to meet his gaze, "Besides, I- I don't mind, if you're in love with me."

A few words of argumentation were already out of Remus's mouth before he properly heard Sirius and his voice came to a skittering halt, a jumble of syllables intelligible to no rational being, "You- wait, you what? I never said—"

Sirius cut Remus off, rambling, a manic glint in his eyes that only appeared in rare moments of anxiousness, "Well, I just mean, it's… Look, Moony, being with you is, it's so different from anyone else, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you lately, and… and I… "

"And?" Remus prompted, his voice small and tight in his throat.

"And I really want to kiss you some more."

"Oh," Remus replied, staring down at his shoes, a knee-jerk reaction to this surprising development. Sirius clicked his teeth together awkwardly, to produce some noise in the silence, and feigned a very sudden interest in the texture of his bed curtains, while Remus assessed the situation.

"You're just taking the mick out of me, aren't you?" Remus said softly, after a moment.

Sirius looked genuinely surprised, "Of course I'm not."

Slowly, he took a step towards Remus and grabbed both his hands, lacing their fingers together. He moved slowly, eyes never leaving Remus's face, letting him understand and giving him the time to say no. But Remus didn't and wouldn't say no. He stood completely still, watching Sirius, trying not to react because he wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't some cruel prank, that James and Peter weren't hiding under the bed and stifling their laughter. He wasn't about to admit his other secret, only for Sirius to backtrack and say it was all for a laugh.

But Sirius continued in this slightly nervous manner, which was unusual and uncharacteristic, and made Remus dare to hope that this was actually real.

True to his word, Sirius kissed him— softer, this time, than he had before. He was just gently brushing Remus's lips and when Remus made no move to pull away, Sirius continued, with more assurance and a sense of need that made Remus forget everything but sensation. He reciprocated the kiss— not just a recipient, but a participant— and soon, their intertwined hands broke apart, and Remus was clutching Sirius's back and Sirius had his hands through Remus's hair, and only when Remus felt Sirius's tongue along his bottom lip did he remember what was actually happening. Remus pulled his head back and away, slightly breathless. Sirius, a mad grin across his face, let his hands fall around Remus's shoulders.

"Too much, too soon? Sorry, if I got a bit, you know, carried away," Sirius was practically bouncing with excitement, his entire face lit up.

"No, it's not that. I just thought— Well, what if James or Peter walks in?" Remus admitted, nodding in the direction of the door.

"I agree that's not how I'd like to break the news, but we have to tell them sometime,"

That pulled Remus up short, "Tell them what, exactly?"

Sirius looked flustered, the grin sliding from his face. "About us."

Remus felt his heart begin to race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss. This was panic, instinct, the practiced understanding that Remus was dangerous and he had best not let others know. It had been miraculous that his friendship with the Marauders survived the werewolf revelation— confessing to this would be pushing his luck.

"Yes, that should be a pleasant conversation. 'How's your day going?' 'Oh, you know, the usual— just snogging my male best friend, nothing strange about that.' The werewolf poof— isn't that a laugh! Why don't we just make posters and plaster them all over the school, so everyone can know what a singularly bizarre _freak of nature_ I am!"

"I think you're overreacting,"

"I am not overreacting," Remus replied sharply, more sharply than he'd intended. He wrenched himself out of Sirius's grasp. This was not what was supposed to happen. He never anticipated that anything could ever come to fruition between them, that this would even be a problem. He hadn't planned and he hadn't thought. Sirius was right about one thing— it really was too much, too soon.

"So, what was your intent, then? Kiss me when you fancy, and then spend the rest of your time pretending there's nothing between us?"

Remus winced, pretending not to hear the hurt in Sirius's voice, the disappointment. Everything felt like it was spinning and the pressure was building up and Remus felt more and more frantic in his need to escape, to process, to _breathe_ for just one second.

"I didn't have any intention about anything until today! I was just going to ignore the whole bloody thing and go about my business and try to pretend that I'm at least a somewhat normal person!" Fat chance. Remus had known from a young age that he'd never be normal— but way back when, he hadn't realized to what extent.

"But isn't this better? Better than pretending, or- or wondering?" Sirius made to take Remus's hand again, but he pulled it out of his reach.

"No, it isn't. Because now it's only going to be hiding and denying and more pretending, and I already do enough of that, thanks."

It was a dreadful routine that was part of his life. The excuses for his new scars, the reasons he'd give for disappearing from classes once a month, regularly… He could hear the new onslaught of questions now— Why haven't you ever had a girlfriend? What's going on with you and Sirius? What's the matter with you, Lupin?

"Maybe we should just get going," Sirius voiced softly, and Remus didn't dare look at him, because he sounded so defeated that it hurt. "You need time to think, and we have rehearsal in half an hour anyway."

Remus nodded distantly, and the two again resumed a silent journey.

Yet, if Remus thought things would get any better at rehearsal, he was sorely mistaken. Half an hour rolled around, Professor Andersen laid out her plans for the evening, and Remus almost wished he were back in the Dormitory arguing with Sirius in private— instead of standing face-to-face in a room full of people, reciting lines that begged Jason-Sirius to come home with him to tell his mother, that lamented the secret keeping and asked for it to end, in a perverse reversal of roles.

Then, Jason broke up with Peter, and Sirius couldn't look Remus in the eyes.

_"You stand before me and I barely know you. Is it so easy to leave?"_ Remus began, though the question felt more like his own to answer, not Sirius's. _"Where is the boy who said I was his soul mate? Where is the boy I believed?"_

The words felt hollow. The character of Peter had always seemed so real to Remus. He was somebody who understood, the one person Remus knew about with the same thoughts and— more importantly— the same feelings. But not this. Whether it was him or Peter who had become the stranger, Remus did not know. Each line felt caught in his throat, and he could not focus on anything but the way Sirius was turned away, eyes in the distance, ignoring Remus. Which hurt more— having Sirius or losing him?

_"You slew all my giants, ignoring your own. Now that they haunt you, I'm left with my courage, alone,"_ More lies, the words bitter in his mouth. The red and gold tie burned against his throat. What courage? Who was he fooling? Remus had no courage.

_"So much for our ever after. I thought the good guys would triumph. I trusted the hero,"_ The words were coming out on automatic now. Remus still felt dazed. Maybe the good guys did always triumph, but never the monsters. _"I didn't hear his goodbye. I guess it was lost in the talk of a straight-acting coward."_

Sirius rounded on him, faster than Remus had been expecting. He wanted to turn and run, to escape from the look in his eyes. It wasn't anger. Though the music had picked up and Sirius spat the words with ferocity and derision, there was betrayal in the eyes.

_"Who are you to go and blame this all on me? You're the one who went ahead and changed the rules!"_ Sirius sang, and the truth could not ring any louder in Remus's ears.

This scene was wrong, backwards. It was twisted, to berate Sirius for keeping secrets, for cowardice, for unwillingness to let him in, when Remus was the one who had committed these crimes not an hour before. The thought made his stomach churn. Perhaps he ought to play Jason, instead. Remus was the straight acting coward, not Sirius.

_"It's time to wake up, Peter. Put away the fairytale. The clock is striking midnight, can't you hear?"_ Sirius sang bitterly, his body rigid and tense, and Remus could only image what raged through his head. _"Not all tales have happy endings. We can't keep pretending, 'cause there's no such thing are heroes who are queer!"_

"No, I didn't mean—" Sirius fumbled immediately, his character forgotten when Remus recoiled as though struck. He reached out to Remus, who automatically took a few steps back, staring at Sirius like he were a stranger.

Remus felt as though the word 'queer' were hovering in the air, spelled out for all to see, a bright and shinning arrow pointed directly at him. It was only a matter of time before everyone saw, wasn't it? Jason was right. It was time to wake up. There were no queer heroes who snuck kisses from their best friends. There were no heroes who savagely attacked their friends regularly and tried to rip their throats out with jagged claws. He would never be the hero in any story.

_"So much for our ever after,"_ Remus sang softly, his expression cold as Sirius stared at him helplessly. The truth had been spoken. The damage had been done. _"You can't be the same boy I followed, thought I'd always follow."_

_"You've hurt me more than you know. All that I wanted was you,"_ Remus continued, his voice faltering as a sense of guilt ripped through him. What they could or couldn't do was no match for the way Sirius shook his head, expression begging Remus to understand. But he did understand, and he wanted the same, but it couldn't be and why wouldn't Sirius grasp that? It wasn't his fault, it wasn't. He didn't choose to hurt Sirius like this. And yet, as the little voice in the back of his head reminded, he was the one pushing away.

_"You were my tomorrow."_

Remus sang quietly, no more than a whisper. He could muster nothing more, as though the insincerity of this hurt— when he was the real perpetrator of their problem— had killed his voice. The piano played on, Sirius and Remus staring at each other through the interlude— Sirius with his shoulders bowed inwards, guilty, defeated, while Remus steadied himself against any onslaught.

He was resolute. He'd allowed his own stupid feelings to ruin everything between them, and the least he could do for Sirius was offer a clean break.

"'Peter, promise you won't say anything to anyone?'" Sirius recited, the final line of the song.

Remus's lips twitched into an ironic smile.

"Promise," He ad-libbed, challenge on his face. Sirius needed to understand and accept what could and could not be. It would be easier, in the long run.

There was silence, a hush, as though the tension between them had drifted through the room, infecting all who watched.

Professor Andersen cleared her throat, breaking through the blind tumult of emotion in Remus's mind. "Are you listening to me? I just said, you two can take a break. Or would you rather stand up there all night, staring at each other?"

Remus didn't waste a second. He strode from the room, not looking back, not making eye contact, and he was halfway down the corridor before he heard the classroom door bang open and Sirius come running after him.

"Moony! Moony, wait— _REMUS!"_

He stopped, arms crossed, in no mood to hear any persuasions. Before Sirius could say a word, Remus held up a hand to silence him.

"It's all true, isn't it? All those words," Remus spoke slowly, harshly. This didn't merit anger— just confusion, and hurt, and fear. But it was so much easier to be angry, "We've been fooling ourselves, Sirius, and it needs to stop."


	7. Chapter 7: Are You There?

**Word Count:** 2,511

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius, James/Lily

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song 'Are You There' which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read, which I recommend because HARMONIES OF GLORY (it's stained glass on a black background). I had a fun time making it sound more about Sirius and Lily, respectively, than about God. Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. I make reference to the song Wedding Bells, but it doesn't feature prominently at all. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a short read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

Rehearsals came and went over the next couple of weeks. They chipped away at the songs and scenes until they were surprised to look back and discover Act I was nearly complete. While the company as a whole continued to improve, there had been a marked decrease in the quality of performance given by Remus— due largely to his frequent absences, sudden lack of enthusiasm, and abruptly dismal chemistry with his character's love interest.

"Decided to join us, have you?" Professor Andersen asked one day, when Remus walked into class ten minutes late, sheepishly slipping through the door. The entire company, arranged on stage and practicing a painfully ungraceful waltz, turned to stare at him.

He mumbled an apology and explained that he was at the Hospital Wing, citing a stomach bug as the reason. Professor Andersen waved an impatient hand at her students and told them to stop gawking and get back to work, before heading over to confer with Remus privately.

"Remus, this is the third time this week you've had some sort of excuse— and it's only Wednesday," She had her hand pressed against her hip, looking at Remus with authority, but not irritation. Just concern. She hadn't docked him any house points throughout this ordeal, which struck Remus as extraordinary.

He nodded, and apologized, his throat dry and tight, "It's just, um, you know, the- the moon. Things have been a little, not good. With that."

Remus hated that excuse even when it was true. He resented it all the more now. It was one thing to shyly ask McGonagall for an extension on an essay when the full moon, the need for sleep, the incredible aches, and the constant vomiting on some unfortunate months had halted him. He didn't want or deserve special treatment, but there were times he simply couldn't manage. Today, he felt a new level of guilt. It was a terrible thing to lie about.

But she agreed with understanding on her face, and told Remus to take it easy, but to keep studying his lines.

"Alright, here's the plan for today!" She announced, turning from Remus and back to the gaggle of students who had lost all semblance of order and spacing in the short time she had left them, "I had wanted to run Wedding Bells, but we'll have to make a change. Sirius, since Mr. Lupin doesn't feel able to marry you right now, I'll need you to get some rehearsal done with Lily."

While the rest of the class worked, either on stage or with their heads bowed low in the front seats, Remus trudged to the very back of the room, where he sat with his knees up against his chest, eyes distant. He felt heavy and ashamed. He should be memorizing lines, like Professor Andersen had asked, but he couldn't bring himself to look at his script. Instead, he settled for picking bits of lint from the sleeve of his sweater, trying to block out the sound of Sirius's voice as it carried throughout the room.

He couldn't handle this show, not anymore. Everything had become too real.

The creak of the neighboring chair brought Remus back to reality. James was sitting next to him, hands clasped and resting on the back of the empty seat in the next row down. He offered Remus a half-grin, the kind where his bottom lip disappeared into his top and his face scrunched.

"What's the matter? Is it something—" James's voice dropped dramatically, "Moon related?"

Remus nodded stiffly.

"You do realize, Moony, that the full moon was a week and a half ago?"

Remus didn't say anything. He had been caught in his lie, and he couldn't really explain what was going on, so he was left with silence. Alarmingly, James took the cue and dropped the issue. They sat quietly together, watching Professor Andersen take Sirius by the shoulders and reposition him so that he was facing outwards, watching her confer with Lily about her movement, watching the pair run a few lines of dialogue over and over, and then watching Sirius and Lily sing together, and flirt together, and kiss one another.

It was only Lily, but the sight still made Remus burn with envy. The way Sirius's hands rested on the small of her back, the way he ran his fingers through her hair, the way they kissed and reminded Remus just what Sirius's lips felt like— everything made him seethe. He couldn't let himself want it, but he did.

James stood abruptly with the clatter of wood scraping floor, as he nudged Remus in the shoulder and gestured to the door.

"Come on," He mouthed. Remus was glad for the excuse to leave the room, to stop watching Sirius, to stop thinking about this play for just a few moments.

Once out in the corridor, James began to pace back and forth— a sure sign of annoyance. Remus would have asked what was wrong, if he didn't already know. Remus would have told James not to worry, that Sirius would never go for Lily and Lily would never go for Sirius, but he didn't, because Remus knew these things and James knew these things, and they both still worried. It was irrational, really. But that still didn't make the feeling go away.

"I thought maybe we could work on our song. The harmonies worry me," James admitted, forcing himself to a stop moving in incessant circles. He put his back against the stone wall and slid to the floor, stretching out his legs while Remus assumed the same position beside him. To an onlooker, they were simply two friends, rehearsing together. But to Remus, the visual signs were everywhere. They were two friends, who were annoyed and frustrated and looking to keep busy. The way James moved— brisk and fidgety— pointed to his emotional distress, while Remus grew increasingly still, not moving save for the clenching and unclenching of his fists, his typical habit while his mind worked out an unpleasant feeling.

He didn't know what or who he was mad at, really— Sirius, himself, the situation, the universe. It was all a tremendous blur, of things he wanted and couldn't have, and things he didn't want, and guilt, and misdirected emotions. In his confusion, Remus had withdrawn and left himself to simmer bitterly.

_"Do you know— well, of course you do— what it's like to stand outside?"_ James began, his voice echoing through the barren corridor. _"To watch the world and wish you didn't hurt so much you cried. I know I'm not the only one, and I know I shouldn't care."_

It seemed like James was staring straight through the opposite wall, right through the stone. Remus knew he was picturing Lily on the other side.

_"But when I feel these things are real, I wish I felt you there. And if I did, I'd ask you, how come life is so unfair?"_ James continued, pointing to Remus, as though passing the song onto him through the tips of his fingers.

Remus chuckled, before beginning to sing. _"Do you know— well, of course you do— what it's like to be afraid? That nothing will become of all the plans that you have made?"_

The words quickly sobered his momentary laughter. Yes, of course he knew. The mornings waking up covered in blood and hoping that it was only his own. The Career Advice meeting he'd left in a huff, when McGonagall insisted he come up with a career path, despite Remus having already accepted the futility of that. Sirius, James, Peter, and the normal lives they would all have, when his would never be. There was no use planning when he had no place in the world.

_"So I watch the girls surround him and he says, it's just a game! I guess that I believe him, but it hurts me just the same,"_ Remus sang. For the first time since his fight with Sirius, he felt himself truly step back into the role. The words again felt like refuge, an armor of grateful understanding. _"And I'm all about this stupid act, so who am I to blame?"_

He didn't have long to feel guilty about avoiding Sirius, to again berate himself for causing the split between them. James, evidently feeling once more the need to move, had jumped to his feet and now offered his hands down to Remus. He grabbed hold and was thrown into a standing position, trainers struggling to maintain a steady contact with the floor, his voice dipping off pitch with the motion. Clutching James's shoulder to steady himself, the two continued in harmony.

_"Are you there? Are you there? Do you watch me when I cry? And if it's in your power, how can you sit idly by?"_ They both sang, James thrashing his head in time with the music, while Remus felt his muscles loosen as the song's energy infected him. _"I try so hard to please you, but you never seem to see."_

_"Is it my fate to sit and wait?"_ James belted, throwing his hands out and singing to the ceiling, demanding an answer of the universe— or an imaginary Lily, perhaps.

_"Wonder what my struggle means,"_ Remus replied, a more subdued inquiry, thumbs hooked through his belt loops and shoulders hunched.

_"I wish I knew that someone out there cared,"_ James sang, while Remus let out an _"Are you there?"_ over top his voice.

_"Cared for me,"_ The two concluded in harmony.

James was overly enthusiastic as they continued, dramatically miming the bottle of wine he was supposed to have, and being generally goofy while Remus tried to keep his face straight. He failed at maintaining his stoicism, singing _"life sucks,"_ through stifled laughter.

_"So why'd you leave?"_ James inquired through song, gesturing towards the Muggle Studies classroom with a grand, sweeping motion.

Remus shrugged, _"The party? I was getting kind of bored. There's another reason. It sucks to be ignored!"_

_"I know!"_ James agreed heartily, clasping Remus firmly on the shoulders. _"I always fight to do what's right, and this is my reward."_

_"This is my reward!"_ Remus echoed loudly, the volume lifting the pressure from his mind like a tonic.

_"Are you there? Are you there? Can you make some time for me?"_ The pair picked up the refrain again. James seemed determined to blow off steam by freeing his inner rock musician, and was equally determined that Remus should do the same. Passionately, James balled his hands into fists, clasping the air as though he could pull the rhythm to him. Remus stood straight, head tilted upwards, singing to the Heavens in hopes that everything would just pour out this way and manifest itself into some sort of order.

James attempted something along the lines of a do-si-do, which didn't quite fit with the song or its meaning, and actually just wound up making Remus dizzy enough to collapse against the wall.

_"Are you there? Are you there? He needs to give me more!"_ Remus sang fervently, starting to get breathless, though his adrenaline was pumping.

_"I'll drink to that!"_ James exclaimed, grinning, as he mimed taking a large gulp of some alcoholic beverage— Holy Wine, or whatever it was these muggles called their drinks.

_"Who cares what people think? We're fine! We've been through this before. One day he'll wake up and realize all he needs is me,"_ Remus exclaimed, getting swept away with the gesturing, motioning grandly to himself and then in the direction of their classroom, to Sirius. James draped his arm across Remus's shoulders, and pretended the pass the invisible wine over. He staggered like an actual drunk man.

_"Until then, God, I wish I knew. I need a guarantee,"_ Remus sang, prodding James in the chest with the tip of his finger.

They finished the song together, alternating lines, swaying back and forth as though they'd just left the Hog's Head, and belting up at the ceiling. Remus realized, on the last "there for me," of the song that James had not messed up the supposedly worrying harmonies, not once.

"I needed that," James stated, leaning back against the wall and panting. He smiled faintly at Remus, pressing his hands against his thighs as he bent over, examining the flagstone as he took a few deep breaths.

"Want to know what's the matter, Moony?" James blurted, suddenly. Remus offered a meek suggestion of Lily, which James waved off with his hand. "Not just that."

"It isn't Padfoot and Lily snogging that bothered me. I know there could never be anything there, between those two. But it's the thought that- that there ever could be someone else. For her," James explained, his face more serious, more eerily mature, than Remus had seen in a while. There was a faint desperation behind the glasses, like a man who suddenly realized his days were numbered. "When she's on stage with Padfoot, I don't see it as him and her. I see her, and I see… I see some random man, who isn't me, but she adores him."

Remus nodded distantly. That did make sense. Whatever Sirius may have told him, Remus couldn't help but picture him returning to all those girls, to the option that would be easier, that wouldn't make him an outcast for life, as being with another man and a werewolf would.

James glanced over at Remus for a moment, and then quickly averted his gaze. Very quietly, he spoke. "And you're worried that Padfoot would—"

"Would what?" Remus asked quickly. His voice had that airy quality to it, as it did when Remus was trying to cover his tracks with a tone of authority that failed to actually be much of a tone at all.

James half-shrugged, crossing his arms and staring down the empty corridor. "Nothing. Never mind."

There was silence. Remus was about to suggest they head back inside when James abruptly wheeled to face him, smiling. Remus raised his brows, alarmed at this back-and-forth of emotions.

"We didn't finish the song, you know," James stated, his voice pleasant and face relaxed. This was true. There was some dialogue left, though Remus hadn't thought it was important, given that James was supposedly worried about harmonies he executed perfectly.

James continued, "You're supposed to whisper in my ear and tell me about your secret relationship with Sirius."

"With Jason," Remus corrected hurriedly, nearly stumbling over those two short words in his effort to speak them quickly.

James regarded Remus for a moment, before finally speaking, in a voice that was measured and calm, "That's up to you. Whichever one you want to talk about."

His words hung in the air, drifting slowly in and out of Remus's brain. Whichever one. James knew. And James did not care. It was too inconceivable.

But more than shocked, he was relieved. It had been said. It was out there, in the universe, instead of bottled up inside and crushed under the weight of everything else. He laughed breathily, amazed. And James still stood, hands in his pockets, smiling as he watched the transformation on Remus's face— tension, to alarm, to understanding and gladness.

Remus stepped forward and pulled James into a tight hug. That was all he could really manage right now, the only thanks that felt appropriate. James chuckled and patted Remus firmly on the back, saying "You didn't think I was _that_ oblivious, did you? Now go declare your love for him or something, you wanker."


	8. Chapter 8: Confrontation

**Word Count:** 3,557

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius, James/Lily

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** There are no songs, just feelings. As always, if you're not familiar with the plot of Bare, I recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick scan. It's a short read and it will help, I promise.

* * *

James rocked back and forth on his heels, silently cursing Remus Lupin and all that he stood for, that finagling little plonker. After Remus had divulged the goings-on with Sirius of late during rehearsal that afternoon, James tried to make him promise to talk to Sirius, to try and work out some solution. And Remus, devil that he was, agreed on one condition— that James have a proper, serious conversation with Lily, that wasn't just brazen sexual advances. So now his evening was crawling by, while he passed back and forth outside of a classroom door in a dark, empty corridor. It couldn't be too much longer till the Slug Club was through, could it?

He practiced the conversations over and over again, weighing each option.

"So Evans… What's the meaning of life?" He whispered to himself, trying to pull a studious expression. "No, that's daft."

He mused over asking if she'd read anything interesting lately, or who she wanted to be the next Minister of Magic. There was art, philosophy, developments in potions, ethics of journalism… Yet none of these topics seemed to have the right effect. None of them would convince Lily that he wasn't as immature as she thought— or, at least, as immature as he once was. He could discuss cultured things, and behave like a normal human being, if only she'd give him another chance to prove it.

The door to the classroom opened abruptly, causing James to wheel about while his breath caught in his throat. Reflexively, his hand jumped to his hair. James hesitated. With great force, he shoved his hands into his pocket, feeling his hair settle against his scalp as neatly as it ever could be.

Students were drifting out, some alone, some in small groups, where they held serious discussions about the connections Slughorn had to offer them or laughed about the unreasonable size of their professor's mustache. Some eyed James curiously, though most had a knowing smirk. It was fairly common knowledge that he was routinely turned down by Lily.

And then she appeared, in conversation with a Ravenclaw girl, who nudged Lily and pointed towards James. She glanced his way, then hurriedly turned back to her friend, as though to avoid a scene altogether.

"Hey, Evans! Er, I mean, Lily… Could you spare a moment?"

He saw her wave her friend on, and cross over to him, arms folded and face apprehensive. She asked what he wanted, and whether it involved— in any way or form— cacti, purple streamers, and things she should dock house points for, like the last time James "wanted to talk."

"I'm sorry," James blurted, surprising even himself as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. That was not one of the options. He hadn't practiced this conversation.

Lily went practically cross-eyed with shock, and James had to admit, he shared the feeling. Merlin, of all the things to say?

"For what, exactly, might I ask?" Lily questioned, regaining her footing in the conversation, with the familiar raise of an eyebrow and incline of her head. The very precise inflection on 'exactly' made James feel as though he should have had a list prepared, a long scroll of parchment that fell to the floor and enumerated the many things James Potter had to be sorry for— which really started and ended with one, sweeping offense.

"For being stupid?" He ventured, more of a question than a statement. Lily let out a throaty noise that James interpreted as a short laugh and not a scoff. Looking thoroughly bemused, she agreed that James could be pretty stupid, and he offered no defense for that.

"I mean, 'cause, I can't very well try and take an interest in your favorite muggle bands and all that, if I don't actually listen to what you say."

"I like Elton John," Lily blurted quickly, "If you're curious about that. He's a muggle and he hasn't released too much yet, but I like him. But I'm guessing that's not what you came here to talk to me about?"

James sighed and agreed, fighting the urge to fidget or the urge to curl up into a ball and play dead in hopes that Lily would leave and save him further embarrassment, "I really hate admitting when I'm wrong."

Lily laughed, a disbelieving sort of laugh, the kind of laugh that was surprised and sarcastic and really rather cute and ultimately very Lily, "You are _such_ an only child, Potter."

"What's the supposed to mean?" He demanded, then gestured for her to stop the explanation now, since it was hardly the moment for deconstructing all of James's cognitive flaws and reasons he was such a prick, "No, no, never mind, some other time."

Here it was. The moment. Remus Bloody Lupin and his bloody awful deals had better appreciate all that this conversation was costing James, in terms of pride, mental health, and overall wellbeing, "I'm sorry I've been so bothersome, is all I'm trying to say. It's not all that fair to you, I suppose."

To her credit, Lily didn't laugh at him, or scorn him, or assume this was a new level of psychological pranking. She only nodded— a bit vigorously— and gave him a cheeky look, "You suppose correctly. Does this mean you'll stop trying to charm sonnets onto my morning toast?"

James pulled a face of mock-insult, giving a tut and placing his oh-so-snubbed hand over his heart, "You don't like the sonnets? I could try haikus, if that's more your style. Or Elmer John songs."

_"Elton,"_ Lily corrected, "And you could just try letting toast be toast. That'd be impressive."

"Nah, I couldn't do that," James informed her gravely, with a serious shake of his head, "You're wasting a lot of toast potential that way."

"You're a complete idiot," Lily said, though it was not the usual way. There was a smile, a laugh. Was he an endearing idiot, perhaps, instead of a repellent one? "Did several years of maturity finally happen overnight?"

"Might've done," James mused, "Probably not, though."

Lily was smiling, and James realized this was the most natural conversation they'd ever had. It helped when he wasn't purposely trying to get under her skin, or gain her immediate and adoring approval, or generally interfere with her day to day life through loud declarations of love, or challenges that she couldn't do better than him on their next Herbology exam, which was never true because she always did better.

Lily gave his forearm a double pat, gesturing down the corridor, "Come on. It's nearly curfew and Dumbledore would personally sack me from my duties if I let you roam this late, unattended."

James didn't come quietly, but he found himself laughing more, and the need to fondle his own scalp dissipated somewhere along the third floor, and by the time they'd both reached Gryffindor Tower, he found the muscles in his face starting to burn from all the smiling. But the more he snarked and joked, the wittier Lily became. She could keep pace, and then exceed him. That was one girl who refused to be left in the dust.

Sirius was flat on his back, knees bent towards the ceiling, as his hands picked loose threads from the carpet in front of the Common Room fire. It was just him and Peter that night. James was off on another valiant quest for Lily's hand, and he had no idea where Remus had gotten off to. Things had been like that, lately, and Sirius didn't remotely like it. They were the Marauders, the best of friends, a _family,_ but not recently. No, Sirius just had to go and push his luck with Remus. He had to act without thinking and spoil everything. It was a miserable evening, in a miserable Common Room, with a miserable bloody carpet and a damn stupid looking ceiling. And the scratching of Peter's quill had just about driven him up the wall.

"Do you have to write so bloody loud, Wormtail?" He snapped suddenly, bolting upright and wheeling to face Peter. It wasn't the noise. It was the need for an outlet. That understanding still didn't stop Sirius from wanting to jump out of his skin, or throw things, or shout at the easiest target around.

Peter glared, laying his quill aside as he gave Sirius a hard look. But, like usual, Peter swallowed most of his annoyance and went about his business, "No one is forcing you to stay here."

"I'll just, er, be upstairs then," Sirius replied quietly, ducking his head into his hunched shoulders. All he needed was a tail between his legs to complete the look of shame at how easily he lashed out at his own friend.

Peter resumed his attempts to salvage a decent grade on his Transfiguration essay, while Sirius trudged up to their Dormitory. It didn't change much, coming up here, except for the new and oppressive quiet. He fell onto his bed, face first this time, and let out a muffled groan into his sheets. It had been several weeks since he'd had a conversation with Remus that wasn't strained. He just didn't know where the boundaries were, now. What was friendly, what was flirty, what was pushing the issue too much, what Remus wanted… all just a blur.

Sirius started to doze, thoughts bleeding together with imagination, the lines between the two fading away. Memories of the past few days mingled with conversations where everything wound up okay, and then were shattered by visions of things never being okay again, and Remus doing full moons alone, and they'd both be alone forever, and dammit why couldn't he just fancy girls like everyone else or why did any of it have to matter, and maybe there was a spell to make the whole world better and then his mother was shouting at him and he was marrying some Pureblood witch they'd picked out, and—

The slam of a door jolted him back into the real world. He felt sluggish and disorientated, shaking his head. Had he fallen asleep? Things started to click back into place as he sat up and blinked around the room, adjusting to the darkness that had crept in for however long he'd nodded off. Suddenly, the candles along the wall sprung to life, illuminating the Dormitory, and Sirius groaned against the influx of light.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Wormtail said no one was up here," Remus was standing by the door, wand in hand.

"No worries," Sirius replied, fighting back a yawn as he blinked blearily. Something about Remus— the way he was standing, the expression on his face— made Sirius laugh.

"What's so funny?" There was a definite look of accusation in Remus's face.

Sirius shrugged, "You. You have such a Moony look about you, right now."

"I should hope I have a Moony look. What does a 'Moony look' look like?" He asked, a note of dry amusement slipping into his voice as he crossed the room and began sorting through his trunk. He still avoided looking Sirius in the eye, however.

"Spindly and alarmed," Sirius answered, matter-of-fact, which made Remus laugh and in turn made Sirius grin from ear to ear.

The laughter faded, however, and an unfortunately familiar silence settled over the room. It was a heavy silence, and Sirius was certain Remus could hear his brain working furiously to think of the right things to say, and Sirius was also certain that he could hear Remus's brain doing the same.

"So how are you?" Remus asked at last, abruptly.

There were so many answers to that question. He could tell Remus that he felt like veritable shit, that he hated this tension, that he missed him, that he was sorry, that he wanted to yell and run and explode and also kiss him repeatedly. He settled with a short 'not bad.'

Remus nodded gently, and kept nodding, looking nearly everywhere but Sirius. The uncomfortable small talk was officially too much.

"I've made a muck of things, haven't I?"

Remus actually stopped nodding at that, which Sirius took as a good sign, by some measure. However, Remus also didn't really do much else. He was thinking, that much was clear to Sirius, by the way he pressed his lips together tightly and stared straight down through the carpet. Well, it could have been worse. Although each second of suspense was tying Sirius's stomach into tight little knots, at least he hadn't received a quick and immediate 'yes.' He could still salvage this, right?

Remus opened his mouth with a gasp, as though about to speak. But instead he sighed, and was quiet again. After a few seconds, he jerked back to life, looked Sirius dead in the eye, and spoke. "Do you remember 3rd year? When James became bonkers over Lily?"

"Vaguely," Sirius replied with several doses of heavy sarcasm. James becoming bonkers over Lily was a fairly difficult event to forget about, given that nothing had changed on that front since. Gotten worse, if anything.

"And suddenly people were going on dates to Hogsmeade and girls were pretty and all that? I didn't understand the appeal. Really bugged me, too, because you know how I like understanding things," Remus explained. Sirius nodded enthusiastically at that evaluation of Remus, but did not interrupt. "I knew I could never date. Too many questions. But then, there was you, and- and that I really didn't understand."

Sirius's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but Remus silenced him with a hand. There was still more to say. Though, Sirius couldn't help but feel shocked that Remus had been thinking of him in that way, long before Sirius had any concept of what he wanted in another person. Not only that, but Remus hadn't changed his mind about him since. Had he really fancied Sirius all the way back then— when he was only just exiting the world of baby fat and coming into facial hair, and his mother had given him an awful haircut that summer, and not even girls had wanted him until 4th year, when he'd physically grown up a bit?

"I thought maybe, being a werewolf, had made me a bit off in other ways," Remus confessed, and Sirius truly appreciated just how long Remus had been struggling with this.

He stretched forward to grab Remus by the hand and pull him closer, shifting across his perpetually rumpled blankets so that there was room for Remus to sit beside him on the end of his bed. Sirius liked having Remus next to him. The physical closeness and the body heat was a comfort.

"You're not a bit off," Sirius informed him, as the bed creaked under Remus's added weight.

Remus clasped his hands together, hunching forward, elbows on knees and chin on knuckles. He was still staring at something that wasn't in the room. He was staring at a thought or a feeling, "It's not something people talk about, is it, two blokes? So what was I supposed to think?"

"That I'm fit and you want me?" Sirius offered, savoring the way the corners of Remus's lips twitched upwards, just for a second.

"If that thought helps you sleep at night, Padfoot," He replied, watching Sirius from the corners of his eyes, a wry look on his face.

"Keeps me up, more like," Sirius stated, leaning the side of his head against Remus's for just a moment. Remus tutted and feigned offense, as though he were too pure and good to entertain such a notion. Sirius nudged him again, and once more, and just a few more times, determined to get a laugh from Remus, who eventually gave in, eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckled and pressed back, pinning Sirius against the bedpost with his shoulder.

The pair settled down and fell into quiet again, though the silence was better this time. Sirius categorized it as the We've-Just-Had-A-Good-Laugh sort of quiet, the warming kind. He liked it, actually. Remus was like a very warm blanket, in person form, Sirius mused. The soft kind of blanket, not the prickly sort. But also a blanket that would be comfortable in the summer, because Sirius didn't like the thought of kicking Remus onto the floor in the middle of the night. Perhaps not his best metaphor.

"I've missed you," Sirius told him, breaking the silence and feeling a weight leave his chest at the admission.

Sirius rotated so that he was turned towards Remus, legs crossed and back against his bedpost. Remus shifted to mirror him, their legs tangling in the middle. Idly, Sirius traced the laces on Remus's left shoe with the tip of his finger.

"So you really fancy me, then?" He asked Remus, his hand coming to rest on the top of Remus's knee. The fabric felt nice.

Remus tilted his head back, looking at Sirius along his nose. His brow creased and he frowned slightly, "Yes. I thought that was obvious by this point."

"Yeah, but I just like hearing you say it."

It still seemed so improbable, that he and Remus felt the same for each other. But then, at the same time, it also seemed completely inevitable. Slowly, Sirius raised his hand and held it out to Remus, palm vertical. Remus watched him a moment, ripples of thought in his eyes, and then he pressed his palm up against Sirius's. Their fingers knit together. Sirius looked at the way Remus's pointy knuckles intertwined with his own, focused on the feeling of how they fit. This was not improbable, he concluded. Yes, it was inevitable.

Sirius inhaled deeply, testing a few unsteady words, "Would— I mean, if you don't want to, I understand— would you still want to, with me… We don't need a big announcement. We don't even have to call it anything, if that makes you more comfortable."

Remus smiled softly, and Sirius continued, "You're my mate, first and foremost. But if you're the kind of mate who is also other things, I'd like that more."

"What kind of other things?" Remus asked softly, leaning towards Sirius, resting his cheek against their still-pressed-together hands.

"If I can know that we have something that's just us," Sirius began, rhythmically squeezing Remus's hand lightly as he spoke. "If we can go off alone, from time to time, for things that are _definitely_ not as enjoyable with girls."

Remus gave a snort of laughter, "I'll take your word on that."

"Believe me, I've had quite a sampling," Sirius stated emphatically, "It's a well-tested fact, that they're not my top pick."

Remus breathed an agreement against Sirius's hand. He glanced upwards, pursing his lips again as he watched Sirius, "So since I'm ignorant of these matters, what in particular is better with me than with girls?"

Sirius stared at him, not comprehending how Remus could miss the implication. And then he noticed the look in his eye— sly, and just a little bit impish. "Oho! There's hope for you yet, you little tease, you!"

"I'm learning a few things, yeah," Remus confessed, his coy smile doing probably unhealthy things to Sirius's breathing pattern.

"Well, allow me to teach you a few more," Sirius whispered, tilting his head, closing his eyes, moving towards Remus, and—

"Oh, you complete nutter!" Remus exclaimed, pulling back from Sirius and laughing, "I can't believe you just said that. Does that sort of line actually _work_ on most people?"

Sirius hit him playfully in the shoulder, "I didn't realize I was going to be critiqued on my seduction! What? What's that look for, Lupin?"

Remus was biting his lip, eyes wide, as though staving off a massive fit of laughter, "You call that seduction?"

"Oh, shut it, Moony,"

Remus wasn't given the chance to reply. Sirius lunged forward to kiss him. Remus laughed against his lips, wrapping his arms comfortably around Sirius's waist. It felt brand new and exciting, but also gave Sirius the faint and perhaps irrational impression that he and Remus had been doing this all their lives. He felt Remus shift his weight, slowly leaning forwards, leaning against Sirius, pushing Sirius downwards and onto his back. Sirius gave a growl of approval, as Remus nestled himself in the contours of Sirius's chest and into the angle of his legs, hands winding through his hair. One arm folded around Remus, the other he slipped into the back pocket of Remus's trousers. And Remus kissed him again and again, assuredly, with a sense of meaning that only Remus would manage to express in this way. Remus often spoke through little movements, looks, or gestures. This told Sirius plenty.

For the second time that evening, the heavy thud of their Dormitory door broke Sirius out of his stupor. It really was impossible to get any privacy in this place. Remus leapt off Sirius with surprising speed, his face panic-stricken and guilty. Lazily, Sirius rolled over onto his stomach, turning to face James who was smirking and Peter who was shaking his head.

"Quit your buggery for now, would you? Other people have to sleep in here, too, you know," James said with a laugh.


	9. Chapter 9: Bare

**Word Count:** 4,516

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** You'll hear the song **'Bare'** which is on youtube if you'd like to listen before or after you read, which I recommend because it's so beautiful and gives me so many feels (it's stained glass on a black background). Further, I make reference to the lyrics and staging of **Epiphany.** However, the album version has different lyrics, which are less applicable to Remus. The staging is remarkably powerful, and always leaves me breathless. Picturing Remus in the middle of that is positively heartbreaking. If you'd like to shatter your heart a little bit, watch 'Epiphany- Bare: A Pop Opera (final Off-Broadway show)' on youtube. Skip to 1:50. You can probably skip over 3:40 - 5:10 if you're impatient. Lastly, you'll hear 'Warning,' and a tiny snippet of 'All Grown Up' (it's less necessary that you listen to this, although it is a FANTASTIC song). Lyrics are noted by italics and by context. If you've yet to familiarize yourself with the plot of Bare, I would recommend giving the Wikipedia summary a quick look over.

* * *

Little changed over the next week, barring a significant shift from tense and uncomfortable to the normal Marauder dynamic. Sirius and Remus didn't behave all that differently around one another, except during meals when their legs were pressed firmly together under the table, or in the Common Room when they would sit side by side so that the backs of their hands touched, inconspicuous to anyone but James and Peter, or when they would mysteriously vanish for about an hour and then return looking slightly punch drunk.

Actually, things were hugely different in important, little ways, and Remus found he rather enjoyed the changes. Although, James's habit of giving a smirk and a wink whenever he caught Sirius and Remus flirting was getting mildly tiresome, he had to admit.

It was evening, and their Muggle Studies classroom was only filled with a handful of students, making the room feel even larger by comparison. Everything sounded different like this. Conversation, although held at a normal volume, felt like an eerie whisper, like some intrusion. Irrationally, Remus felt that the room itself was protesting, that theatres needed to be filled to have life, otherwise it became a halfway point between the living and the dead. Although fine during the daytime, this was not the sort of place Remus would want to be in alone at night.

"Alright, you lot, we've got some work to do this evening," Professor Andersen announced as she arrived, and the slight chill disappeared from the back of Remus's neck as she began the rehearsal, "Since it's just you leads, best to ignore group numbers. We'll do Warning, All Grown Up, and then skip ahead to Bare, to make up for lost time."

Remus involuntarily shrunk back in his seat, knowing her comment was meant directly for him and his little phase, his time spent completely unable to play the character of Peter without a nervous breakdown. Sirius, who was next to him and had apparently become a mindreader over the last couple of days, gave Remus's leg a reassuring pat, "Don't worry about it, Moony."

Renee Hopkins— a Ravenclaw girl Remus didn't know much beyond her role— mounted the stage. He always felt a little irrationally annoyed by her. This was due largely to the fact that their only interaction had been this show, with Renee playing Remus's mother and Remus arguing with her, and struggling to come out to her, and generally having conversations that were personally stressful. She also had something of a look about her, like she was just waiting to be challenged, though Remus was sure he was only trying to justify his feelings.

She started to sing, but Remus paid little attention. While he knew the script well enough to understand the context— that his character's mother was trying to comprehend his sexuality— he rarely paid much mind to his classmates' work on stage. He had too many of his own lines and songs to learn, and preferred to utilize the small portion of off-stage time he had for something more productive. Like always, he was distracted from the stage action, though with something new this rehearsal.

Sirius had invented a new hobby, of late. It was called Find-As-Many-Subtle-Ways-as-Possible-to-Touch-Remus-in-Public. And Remus had just received a lick along the side of his ear, when Sirius leaned in under the pretense of asking if he knew today's date. He blushed furiously and hissed his answer in a low voice, completely certain that Sirius had absolutely no cause to inquire about the date.

Sirius mouthed 'thank you' dramatically, winked, and then settled down, hands folded, like a good little boy, though the smug look in his eyes— and Remus's wet outer ear— begged to differ that Sirius was anything but.

_"A word I would not touch. Did I ever know my son at all?"_ In the stillness following Sirius's most recent intrusion of personal space, snippets of Renee's singing filtered through Remus's awareness. _"Well, now I know too much."_

That was the first time he had ever heard— properly heard, and been aware of and processed— that lyric. Although his parents hadn't the faintest idea that Remus was off at school snogging a boy and having his ear licked by a boy and feeling his heart pound whenever he thought of a boy, the concept was not unfamiliar. But Claire's untouched word was not his real mother's untouched word.

They meant well, they did, but he wished they would just come out and ask about the full moon, about his transformations, instead of asking emphatically how he was, with the unspoken understanding of what they really meant. He wish they would say it— just say it— instead of his mother fussing about his "problem" and his father constantly advising him that "different people need to be careful, Remus. Remember that."

They did everything they could to protect him. But this wasn't something they could protect against.

_"And what if I liked the song I heard before, the one I sang when my boy was born?"_ Renee had a nice voice, if not a little sharp at times. Still, Remus heard words, not music. _"All the dreams I had for him, they fade away, lost in words I cannot say."_

"Oops, sorry," Sirius murmured, passing Remus a grin. After a feigned stretch, Sirius had run his hand along the back of Remus's head, through his hair. It was even less subtle than the whisper-and-lick.

And Sirius just smiled and smiled, still positively giddy about the whole development between them. Sirius, who was clever and handsome and charismatic and full of life. Sirius, who could do whatever he wanted after Hogwarts and would probably have great success at some career and live a vibrant life. Sirius, stuck with Remus, who would struggle to find employment and would scrape by and would never be able to make anything of himself. That hardly seemed fair.

Remus felt a foot rubbing along the back of his leg.

"Stop it, would you?" He hissed at Sirius, while Renee continued to vocalize things that hit much too close to home, in a very literal sense.

_"Where was the warning? Don't tell anyone."_ No, musn't do that. The importance of secrecy was stressed on Remus the moment he had been bitten, before he was even able to comprehend the significance. _"I don't want their pity. I just want my son."_

"What's the matter?" Sirius whispered in reply, but Remus just shook his head. This was neither the time, nor the place, and there was a sort of burning sensation in his chest cavity and Remus worried that if he opened his mouth to speak, there would only be an acidic tasting bile and all of the bad things he kept welled up inside.

They meant well. Everyone meant well— his parents, Sirius, James and Peter, his professors. It hit him at odd times, these feelings or these reminders. There wasn't anything he or anyone else could do, and it wasn't anyone else's responsibility to help. He needed to think, to clear his head, and to wait for the return of stability that seemed impossible now, even though experience had taught him that it always came back eventually.

"Come get me when we need to sing, alright?" Remus instructed, before standing from his chair and hurrying from the room, in a half-bent crouch that was supposed to be unobtrusive.

_"Could this really be my child? My firstborn, my child? Playing in his cradle, so tender and mild."_

The faint applause was silenced as the classroom door closed behind him. Out in the corridor, on his own without Renee's voice or Sirius's concerned looks, he could almost breathe again. Almost.

There was an alcove nearby, just a small inset area of stone, a few thin windows revealing an expanse of lake and forest below. Remus leaned against the cool, rough surface, staring and thinking. Though a rampage of terrible thoughts pounded at the floodgates of his mind, Remus squeezed shut his eyes to concentrate, to be rational. There was absolutely no need to get carried away. This was nothing he couldn't think through.

There were good things and bad things in this show. It was the first time Remus ever heard about someone with similar feelings, the first time another man was presented as an actual _option,_ and not just something about himself that he was doomed to ignore for the rest of his life. It also resulted in many intimate moments with Sirius— both staged and real. But, on the other hand, the show required that his friends and classmates condemn him, and he had to watch Sirius's character so berated that it resulted in suicide. There were tough things to face within the confines of a seemingly innocent school project.

He wondered if that's why Professor Andersen had chosen it. She didn't necessarily pick it for Remus, or Sirius, or for anyone in their situation, Remus supposed. But it was all about action, about how words and deeds influence and change a person, about taking responsibility for your own effect.

Right now, in this moment, when he closed his eyes, there was only one effect. A mother trapped with the burden of a lycanthropic son, who she could never boast about to her friends, who she could never watch achieve his dreams, who could never marry or have children— all affection for Sirius aside, he still couldn't. The familiar thoughts burned.

It didn't surprise him to hear footsteps, nor to hear Sirius's voice, asking what was wrong. Though he sought to be alone, Remus knew Sirius would follow. Sirius always did—'like a lost puppy' didn't even begin to cover it.

"Just needed to think," He answered softly, his voice gravely but measured. Remus shuddered against a chill, though whether its origin was the night air or something within himself was unclear.

"What about?" Sirius crossed the distance in the alcove, footsteps echoing, and placed his hand on the small of Remus's back. For a moment, they were both silent, watching the glimmer of starlight across the lake's surface.

"You are sure about this, aren't you?"

Without missing a beat, Sirius groaned dramatically, pressing his forehead against the back of Remus's head, "Listen Mr. I-Aspire-To-Be-A-Sad-And-Lonely-Hermit, I want to be with you. And that's that."

As always, Remus was convinced his friends did not understand the severity of the situation. It wasn't their fault. They simply couldn't know. After all, they had never worried about whether they could attend school. They never feared losing control and killing someone, or worse, infecting someone else with this. They had never seen Healers refuse to help a severely wounded ten-year-old boy, because "he had done this to himself" and they didn't want to work near his "contaminated" blood. They could never really know the magnitude.

"You shouldn't want to. I'm just—" A pariah. A strain on his own parents. Futureless. Dangerous.

"Absolutely beautiful, yeah, I know," Sirius finished, speaking softly into his hair, hands sliding along body-warmed fabric until they were securely around his waist. "That's why I'm so hellbent."

Remus could help but chuckle, low and throaty. But as he slipped back into silence, the smile ebbed from his face. Thought overtook him again.

"What's brought this on, Moony?" Sirius persisted, his voice earnest and concerned. A thumb rubbed up and down his stomach. Remus's heart lurched, though the surge of adrenaline did little to quell the acrid force that was building and building, and burning and waiting to be expelled.

"I just didn't— I didn't know this would be so hard. The show, I mean," Remus explained after a moment, feeling like his tongue were suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth as he tried to speak.

After a brief kiss to the top of Remus's spine that send a prickle of desire running the length of his back, Sirius stepped away. He adjusted so that they could see eye to eye, ghost-white illuminating the one half of Sirius's cheek, while dark shadows overtook the other, "If you're worried people will really think we're… I mean, as far as they know, it's just acting."

"It's more than that," Remus admitted, feeling his words begin to charge forward and take shape of their own accord, as though they knew that Sirius and only Sirius could catch them, "You think that opening number is easy for me? When I first read the script, I only skimmed through the songs, I didn't read every word, and if I had… Maybe I wouldn't have—"

Sirius was staring at him with the utmost confusion. Remus tried to steady himself before explaining, starting with the most natural place— the show's opening number, Epiphany.

"You think I like hearing you all singing that to me? To hear, 'seven years in school, he played it cool. You can't keep it, tell us your secrets' from all of you? I mean—"

His voice was starting to shake and he had to stop. Remus stared up at the ceiling, pulling away from Sirius so that he could pace wildly back and forth, "I expect that, did you know? Every month, every time there's a new scar, every time someone casts me a strange glance,_ I expect to hear that._ I'm surprised they haven't— that they haven't thrown me up on a table in the Great Hall yet and yelled 'abomination' at me, because I—"

He couldn't talk. He sunk to the floor, eyes wide and staring desperately at the ground. The character's nightmares were his nightmares. And in that scene, it all became real. The sensation of his fellow students throwing him to the ground, the anger on their faces, the way they lifted him by the arms, his back arching and head rolling, and threw him atop the alter so they could better revile him— it didn't feel like acting. It felt like his every fear of losing everything and his every expectation of what the rest of his life would be like after school. There was something horribly macabre about having to act out the sort of violent rejection Remus had been fearing since he started at Hogwarts.

Sirius sighed, cleared his throat, sat down and wrapped a comforting arm tightly around Remus, then spoke, "You amaze me, you know? You're a sodding idiot, Moony."

His head swiveled towards Sirius so fast that his neck cracked, a sudden rush of anger quickly smothering all previous anxiety, "Excuse me? I believe I was having an emotional moment."

"Let me finish, then," Sirius replied crisply. "Because you don't realize just how… You have such will power. And you're a better human being than the lot of us, I'll have you know. Patience of a Saint, you've got— well, maybe a demi-Saint, but still."

Remus gave a short grunt of laughter, but did not speak.

Gently, Sirius grabbed Remus's hand, loosely wrapping his own fingers around just a few of Remus's, "You are one hell of a person, Remus Lupin, and I will personally smite anyone who disagrees— and that includes you, so shape up, you hear me?"

Remus pursed his lips, but a wry smile fought its way through, "I'll do my best."

"Now, come on," Sirius gave Remus's knee a pat, heaving himself to his feet. He turned and offered Remus a hand, that he gladly accepted, "Before they send a search party."

* * *

Hesitantly, trying not to obviously interrupt the proceedings on stage or draw too much attention to their re-arrival, Sirius pushed open the classroom door, wincing as it squeaked. These bloody doors always knew when he was trying to be stealthy, and sought to work against him, Sirius was certain of it.

_"Story ends in total damage. It's an unforgiving world!"_ Lily belted on stage, and Sirius gave Remus a thumbs up that they'd returned just in time, waving him inside with a flailing hand. The pair slid as silently as possible into the theatre, ignoring the and-where-have-you-been look that James gave.

As Lily finished with a long, steady note, Sirius and Remus took to the stage— Sirius only had to jump to reach the platform, while Remus scrambled up a little less gracefully. They positioned themselves at the center, as per usual, Sirius smiling with reassurance as they stood facing one another. Professor Andersen asked if they were ready, to which they both nodded, and then came the rush. Sirius felt the familiar bubbling sensation in the pit of his stomach, surging through his bloodstream, as he waited to sing.

_"Do you remember the day that you met me? I swear it was yesterday,"_ Sirius started, over the gentle lull of piano, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the stage lights spread through his body. _"I knew with a glance that you were the question, and you were the answer, that the world would make sense again if I held your hand."_

He stepped towards Remus, locking their upstage hands together as he sang, _"Someday you'll look back, and I hope you'll remember the moment of truth when I knew who I was. How did I learn the truth you gave to me?"_

These were the perfect words. He could think of nothing better, no other expression, to explain how deeply pleased he was to have known Remus at all, and now to have Remus in this context. Finally, a piece of him was content, was at rest. The questions had ceased and left Sirius with nothing but the utmost happiness that he had worked them through, that Remus had been there to help and guide.

_"I will always remember the first stolen moment. There you were kissing me, and time seemed to freeze,"_ Remus began, soft and gentle, fighting a smile that eventually lit his entire face as he met Sirius's eyes. It was the cutest little grin and it reddened his ears, as though he were in a state of childlike awe, that there was a real stolen moment to remember between the two of them. Sirius had replayed their first kiss in the Room of Requirement several times, and each subsequent kiss, and the way Remus grinned like a lunatic suggested that he was doing the same.

_"Now I stand at a crossroad, and I stare at a question. If prayer were the answer, I'd fall on my knees,"_ Remus didn't falter in singing, despite the suggestive way Sirius waggled his eyebrows at the mention of Remus on his knees. Sirius did receive a flash of a look that clearly stated I-will-kill-you-later, as Remus finished the verse. Although, in total fairness, Sirius was not really up for being killed, not when he was suddenly filled with all kinds of ideas about things to do with Remus.

The music began to build, the lines coming with greater urgency that was mirrored in the way Sirius grabbed at Remus, and the way Remus held Sirius closer, hands caressing cheeks and stroking hair and pressing tightly. Sirius had discovered that there was a rather addicting quality to the feel of Remus's waist— and the snug, perfect way that Sirius's arms fit around it.

_"I've never been this bare,"_ Sirius confessed, and truly, he hadn't. He was singing intimately with someone so important, someone he wanted to make understand how deeply he felt, all the while a room full of people sat watching what ought to have been a private moment.

_"I've never been so scared,"_ Remus sang back, the sound of his voice causing heart palpitations in Sirius's chest.

_"I've never felt such honesty,"_ Sirius continued softly, his fingers tracing from Remus's eyebrow down to his chin, swimming through bright gold and warm brown shadows cast by the lights above. Remus closed his eyes and drew a sharp breath, before singing his reply.

_"Doubts that will never go away."_

Irrationally perhaps, Sirius suddenly feared that were true, and immediately longed to eliminate all such doubt. He held Remus tighter, continuing the roll of line over line, the speak and answer between him and Remus.

_"Knowing what you mean to me,"_ Sirius sang emphatically, his heart rushing and swirling and pounding, till each blink of his eyes sent bursts of light dancing behind his lids. He hardly felt like himself, as though the energy were only partly his to control, the other half belonging to Remus.

Remus's soft smile was warm behind the eyes now, _"Knowing who we have to be."_

_"Know as you hold my hand,"_ In his slightly frenzied state, Sirius fumbled for Remus's hands and wound up clutching his shoulder instead. With a quiet laugh, Remus gently reached upwards, arm bending at an angle that hardly looked comfortable, pressing his hand gently down atop Sirius's. They were a right mess of limbs now, but it still didn't feel close enough, still wasn't enough contact.

_"I hope and pray that you'll understand,"_ Remus sang, while Sirius underscored the moment with a passionate, _"Forever you and—"_

_"I know you're here in my heart,"_ They sang together in harmony, Sirius pressing the palm of his free hand firmly against the center of Remus's chest.

The blaze of their voices together faded softly, and Sirius was left staring at Remus, as though he were the most important thing in the world, and that his very existence depended on this moment, _"Please understand that I tried."_

_"Try to see it's not goodbye,"_ Remus sang, and Sirius knew— his hand still resting atop Remus's heart— that it was not goodbye, and it would never be goodbye. In a detached, back-of-his-mind sort of a way, Sirius was certain he had never known anything so clearly before.

The sound of Remus singing, and the feeling of Remus trying to pull away and untangle their various appendages, set time moving again, _"The act is beginning, the audience waiting."_

_"No. Stay in this moment, where secrets reveal,"_ Sirius replied with a fervent need, his hand reaching out to cradle the back of Remus's head and bring him back again, hands twisting through hair that felt soft against the pads of his fingers. Drawing a deep breath that shuttered and rattled in his chest, he continued to sing, _"Here in a world, where there's safety in falsehood, I have discovered the one thing that's real…"_

Remus watched Sirius raptly. They were completely absorbed in one another, as Sirius's voice grew steadily louder and more fervent, _"That I love you, and I've loved you from the start, and if you hold that close to you, we'll never be apart. Peter—"_

_"That I love you,"_ Remus offered quietly. Sirius felt it. It was this little buzz, this tiny spark that seemed to leap from Remus to him.

Sirius didn't know what he was feeling anymore. He had lost all awareness for things that weren't gently curved faces with honest brown eyes and a mop of hair hanging along the eyebrows, _"Please know I loved you."_

_"From the start,"_ They finished in a harmony that seemed to weave between them, like a delicate thread.

As in tandem as their voices had been, so were their movements. Together, they drew closer to kiss. At the lightest touch of lip, Sirius wanted more and he pressed harder against Remus, who threw his arms around Sirius's neck like they'd never touched before. He was blind to everything but feeling— the world burned a hot white as the stage lights shone even through his shut eyes, and everything was warm, and his heart beat so frantically that his instinct yelled to stop, but Sirius couldn't. He couldn't. Desperately, he kissed Remus, tongue pushing between the other's soft lips before he really knew what was happening. And it was the best damn kiss Sirius had ever experienced. He was all of five seconds from slipping his hands under Remus's shirt and yanking it off, from backing Remus against the wall for better leverage, when he heard an enthusiastic whoop that reminded him of the audience's existence and sent the whole sense of intimacy crumbling to the ground.

Hastily, they pulled apart, and the world reappeared. Remus gave Sirius a shy side-glance, and a sheepish grin that tinted his cheeks a soft pink— though it was unclear whether from embarrassment or from pleasure. Sirius offered a broad smile in return, giving Remus a swift pat on the back that seemed far too casual by comparison, before they wordlessly left the stage together.

"Went on a little long, don't you think, boys? Need I remind you that you're supposed to be dying in this scene, Sirius?" Professor Andersen commented as they passed her, a hint of amusement flitting through her words. But Sirius didn't care about anything else, because every corner of his body was buzzing and he felt more alive than he had in a long time.

As Sirius and Remus approached their seats, they received yet another whoop of encouragement, this time accompanied with a flurry of obscenely provocative gestures. Sirius simply glared at James in warning. It was difficult to distinguish which impulse was stronger— the urge to hit James for calling out and interrupting their moment, or the need to thank him for keeping Sirius from ripping Remus's clothes off in the middle of class. He opted for the middle ground.

"Thanks, mate," Sirius said in earnest, and James smiled, before Sirius smacked him upside the head.

Sirius wasn't entirely certain what happened for the remainder of rehearsal that night. He didn't stop looking at Remus for one second of it. And when the four of them finally trudged back to their Dormitory and readied themselves for bed, Sirius and Remus had still not stopped smiling at one another, and they didn't really hear Peter groan and ponder whether McGonagall could get the pair their own room, and they didn't pay much mind when James rolled his eyes and said that even he wasn't this bad with Evans, and could they at least use a Silencing Charm so he could get some sleep?

After about an hour of darkness and relative quiet, punctuated only by the distinctive heavy breathing of two sleeping roommates, there came the sound of shuffling blankets, footsteps, and the pulling apart of bed curtains, followed by the groan of a mattress as Sirius nudged his way into bed with Remus.

"Your bed is softer than mine," Sirius whispered, blinking repeatedly till his eyes adjusted and he could make out some shadowy, inky detail in Remus's face through the darkness.

"Yeah? Well, you're always welcome in it," Remus answered with a grin, kissing him softly before adjusting with a rustle of linen, so that his face was burrowed snuggly in the planes of Sirius's bare chest.

Sirius gave an appreciative, sleepy 'mph' as his consciousness began to slip. He fell asleep with his fingers still absently tracing the curve of Remus's face.


	10. Chapter 10: Epilogue

**Word Count:** 687

**Pairings:** Remus/Sirius, James/Lily

**Era:** MWPP

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any bit of the Harry Potter-verse, as created by J.K. Rowling. I also have no ownership on the plot, script, or songs of the musical Bare: A Pop Opera, upon which this is all based. Furthermore, I am aware that this is anachronistic. Bare didn't open until 2000 and the Marauders were in school long before that. But musicals often require suspending disbelief, so I would ask you to do that now.

**In this chapter...:** there might be feels. Thank you all for reading and following and reviewing and everything else you did to make me feel like this story was appreciated and enjoyed.

* * *

The show went off without a hitch, which was impressive, given that Sirius and James had slipped the Gryffindor girl playing Sister Chantelle a bouquet of charmed flowers that spit at whoever stopped to smell them, and the poor girl was allergic which resulted in a mad dash to the Hospital Wing half an hour before the show started.

But the audience— which was neither a great many people nor a pitiful few— was appreciative, and they clapped when appropriate, and laughed when expected, and generally seemed to enjoy themselves. Remus was sweet and sympathetic, and he didn't suffer a panic attack when kissing Sirius in front of a significant chunk of the student population. Sirius was charming and passionate, and resisted all urges to pull any pranks that would jeopardize the show— save the mishap with Sister Chantelle and the flowers, of course. James was sincere, Lily was entrancing, and Peter only slipped up a little bit while performing his rap in 'Wonderland.'

At the end of the night, the audience left with a somber air caused by Sirius's recent on-stage death and a cathartic relief that none of this was happening to them. Meanwhile, the cast shouted and jumped and hugged one another behind the closed curtains.

The Gryffindor Common Room was alive that night. James and Sirius had made a quick run to Hogsmeade, dragging back with them a large crate of Butterbeer and an even larger crate of Firewhisky.

The entire room thrummed with excited chatter, music from the ignored radio in the corner pulsing beneath all their voices.

"Oi! Wormtail! Get me a Butterbeer while you're up, would you?" Sirius called out over the din, as Peter rose from his chair and made his way through the crowd to the Marauders' generously supplied drinks table.

He tossed the bottle to Sirius, who had to stretch forward to catch it, very nearly dropping the dewy glass onto the floor.

"Thank you much!" Sirius replied, before starting to sing, _"Peter, please know I love you!"_

"None of that! I'll let you and him exchange the declarations of love, thanks," Peter replied, gesturing between Sirius and Remus, who grinned at one another and surreptitiously moved closer on the couch.

It was around 2 AM when the crowd finally began to thin, when people finally began to trudge up to bed. By 3 AM, very few people were left in the Common Room. The slowly dying fire cast everyone in a deep orange glow, and the relentless noise of earlier had turned into a gentle murmur.

James sat on the floor before the hearth, still clutching an empty bottle. Peter had wrapped himself up in an armchair and was staring blankly, trying valiantly and rather unsuccessfully to stave off sleep. Sirius and Remus were together on the couch.

"It's about time, mate," James told Sirius, gesturing to Remus with the end of his bottle.

Sirius glanced down. Remus was curled on the couch, his head in Sirius's lap, sound asleep. For the past half hour, Sirius had been absently stroking his arm. He smiled softly at the sleeping shape before looking back up to James, his grin widening.

"You should talk," Sirius commented, giving a subtle nod to the corner of the room, where Lily remained talking with a handful of other girls. Earlier in the evening, however, she had been comfortably seated at James's side, enjoying a Butterbeer and a conversation.

James gave an airy shrug that really only meant I-told-you-she'd-come-round, "All in all, not too shabby for a school project."

"No, indeed. Not bad at all," Sirius agreed, a yawn warping his words mid-sentence.

Remus began to stir, giving a few incoherent, sleepy mumbles. Sirius shushed him, moving his thumb in gentle circles along his forearm. Remus made a funny little gurgling noise that would have embarrassed him during normal hours, and nestled back into Sirius's lap and into sleep. At Sirius's insistence, he and James continued their conversation in hushed tones.

Remus was at peace and Sirius was determined that no voice should wake him now.


End file.
